Resident Evil: Fallout
by Hyperactive Hamster Of Doom
Summary: A quiet mountain town seemed like the perfect place to start a new life. However, all is not well in Arklay. Strange things are happening in the forest, and Jack and Lisa’s worst fears are soon confirmed. Something else has survived...
1. A Sunday Morning

**Resident Evil: Fallout  
**~ A fanfiction by the Hyperactive Hamster Of Doom ~

**Summary: **A quiet mountain town seemed like the perfect place to start a new life. However, all is not well in Arklay. Strange things are happening in the forest, and Jack and Lisa's worst fears are soon confirmed. Something else has survived…

Rating: T Category: Horror/Action/Adventure

_Dedicated to DarkKnight7, my first ever reviewer, to whom I owe so much. And to Matthew - my husband, my friend and my inspiration._

_Oh, and I still don't own Resident Evil or anything contained therein, but if you don't recognise anything from the games, or movies, or any other derivative product with the RE logo slapped on it, then it's probably mine._

_By the way, this is the sequel to "Resident Evil: Project Lucifer". If you haven't read "Project Lucifer", you may wish to do so now, because then you'll understand what the heck's going on and who all these OCs are... anyway, enough disclaimers and stuff. On with the story!_

**1. A Sunday Morning In A Quiet Little Mountain Town  
**

**Sunday 11th October, 1998**

Winter came early here in the mountains. It was still warm down on the plains, but up here the air was crisp and cold, scented with pine and the promise of snow, and the nights were starting to draw in earlier again.

It was a beautiful morning in Arklay, a small town set high in the mountains of the same name. The peace and stillness of the early morning was broken only by birdsong, the whispering of the trees in the forest that covered the lower half of the mountains, and the far-off rushing of the Marble River.

The tranquillity of the scene was gradually disturbed by the growing sound of marching feet.

_Stamp, stamp, stamp, stamp…_

_Tap, tap, tap, tap…_

_Kerrrr-annnnnng…!_

A guitar chord rang out, shattering the silence. It was followed by a second, identical chord, then a third and a fourth, and then all musical hell broke loose. All over the town, people were startled awake by the sound of someone hollering that he didn't want a holiday in the sun.

"What the hell?"

One couple peered out through the sash windows of their house, puzzled by the noise and its mysterious origins, before realising exactly what it was that they were hearing.

"Oh, _God,_" groaned the man. "It's _her _again… why did you have to make her a punk fan, God? And why did you have to make her an early riser too? Why? Was it something we did?"

"Whatever we did, it must have been really bad," the woman muttered. "It's only seven-thirty… I'm going back to bed, Harry."

"I'm not. There's no way I can sleep through that racket. Honestly, this is getting ridiculous - it's Sunday morning! Who listens to Seventies punk at seven-thirty on a Sunday morning?"

xxxxxxxxxx

"Ellie!"

The culprit responsible for crimes against peace and quiet put down her guitar, which she'd been playing in time with the music, and got up to open her bedroom door.

"What is it, Mum?" she bellowed down the stairs.

"Breakfast's ready!" came the reply from below.

"Oh, okay. I'll be down in a minute."

She closed the door again and walked across the room to shut her bedroom window. On her way back, she glanced in the mirror and saw a tall, skinny, sleepy-looking girl of fifteen staring back at her.

The girl was bespectacled and rather plain, with angular features, piercing blue eyes, a long nose and a mop of frizzy hair. The latter was an ambiguous blonde-brown colour and splendidly immune to combs.

Her outfit was, to put it politely, scruffy. She wore an old Ramones t-shirt and a pair of badly faded jeans that, judging by the gaping holes in the knees, had either been viciously attacked by giant clothes moths or savaged by a rogue lawnmower. Her battered sneakers had given up the ghost many months ago, but were still being refused a decent burial, on the grounds that their owner couldn't find a similar pair to replace them.

Rubbing her eyes, Ellie stared for some moments at this slightly outlandish vision, then nodded approvingly at her reflection. She turned away from the mirror and went to switch off her CD player, which was still blaring out Seventies punk classics at full volume. Interrupting the lead singer mid-refrain, she snatched up her guitar and backpack, and slammed the door on her way out of the room.

As she stepped out onto the landing, Ellie suppressed a shudder of disgust as she saw the ugly green wallpaper. The previous owners had not only had a complete lack of taste, but also an odd fixation with Artex, plywood, deep-pile carpets, horrible textured wallpaper and all things generally Eighties. Her parents were doing their best to undo the damage, but it had already taken over a year just to redecorate downstairs, and even now they were still trying to work their way up to the top floor.

She looked down at the stairs, which seemed dizzyingly steep and high at this time of the morning, and eyed the dark green carpet with extreme suspicion. The stair carpet was lethal, and shifted underfoot. Despite repeated warnings from her parents to be careful, it never made any difference - she always ended up landing flat on her face at the foot of the stairs.

The banister beckoned… oh, she'd been told not to do it, of course, but if it was a choice between getting into trouble or falling downstairs yet again, then she'd take the rap for this any day of the week.

Whistling cheerfully, Ellie hopped up onto the banister and slid down, playing a guitar riff on the way down. She leapt off the end of the banister and landed hard on the wooden floor, with a thud so loud that it echoed around the house.

"ELEANOR JOHNSON!" she heard her mother bellow from the kitchen. "I _told _you not to slide down the banister! How many times have I told you _not _to slide down the banister?"

"Twenty-seven this week," Ellie called, heading for the kitchen. "Repetition's good for the developing brain, though, Mum."

"I'll develop your brain in a minute! Now sit down and eat your breakfast, it's getting cold!"

Ellie knew that this was an idle threat, and that her mother wouldn't really do anything about her unfortunate habit of using the banister as an escape route; all the same, it was best not to push her luck. She went into the kitchen obediently and dropped her things next to the door.

Her family were seated around the kitchen table, a circular pine object that had taken a lot of punishment over the years. It bore the many various scars of family life: splashes of paint, red wine stains, blobs of candle wax, scores in the wood from cutlery dragged idly across the table, and smears of something sticky and unknowable that just wouldn't come off, no matter how much you scrubbed.

The first person she noticed at the table was her father, dressed for work and towering above the table even while seated. A picture of serenity, he was peacefully reading the newspaper, unaware that his glasses were sliding slowly down his nose.

"Morning, Dad," said Ellie, hugging him around the shoulders.

"Good morning, dear," he said mildly, turning the page of the newspaper. "Lovely weather we're having, isn't it?"

"Yeah, really nice," agreed Ellie. "Makes a change. Morning, Mum."

Ellie's mother was the complete polar opposite of her husband. Whereas Mr Johnson was lanky, dark-haired and serene, Mrs Johnson was short, plump, sandy-haired and prone to shouting. She was currently shouting across the table at Ellie's younger brother for not using a knife and fork properly -

" - _like a civilised human being!_ _You__'__re a revolting Neanderthal and I am ashamed _- oh, morning, Ellie dear, did you sleep well? - _ashamed_ _to call you my son! No child of mine has ever had such disgusting table manners! Now you pick up your knife and fork and eat properly!__"_

On the other side of the table, still being berated by his mother, was her brother Luke, aged nine, who was chasing a stray piece of food around his plate. Quiet, scholarly and prone to daydreaming, Luke rarely paid attention to anything that was said to him -

"Morning, Luke."

- and now was no exception. Ellie sighed, and moved on to the next person sitting at the table. This happened to be her baby sister, Ginny, aged eighteen months.

"Morning, Ginny-Gin," she said, idly tickling the baby under the chin. This gesture was obviously well-received; Ginny gurgled happily and drooled over the edge of her highchair.

The last member of the family, sitting in between Ginny and her father, was Ellie's older sister Mel. Seventeen years old, beautiful and disdainful, Mel was scowling disapprovingly at her brother, her full lips pursed in a pout. Nobody could sulk quite like Mel, Ellie reflected.

"Hey, Ellie," Mel greeted her sourly, before Ellie could even open her mouth. "Glad you could join us - for _lunch_."

"You'll be equally glad to know that I'm not stopping," said Ellie placidly, not rising to the bait. "I'm off to band practice."

Mel raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.

"Again?"

"Again," confirmed Ellie, gulping down a glass of orange juice and snatching a piece of toast from the toast rack. "Band practice makes band perfect. Well, can't stop, got to go. See you later, everyone."

"Have a good day, dear," called her mother. "And don't forget to take your jacket, it's cold outside."

"Will do, Mum," said Ellie, pulling on the old Army jacket that was hanging on a coat hook in the hall. She grabbed her backpack and guitar, and was out of the house before anyone could protest at her refusal to stay for breakfast.

xxxxxxxxxx

Ellie walked down the street with her backpack on her back, her guitar under her arm, and her dad's old Army jacket draped across her shoulders. Looking up at the bright blue sky and munching on the hot piece of buttered toast that she'd grabbed on her way out of the house, she felt completely at peace.

Arklay was a pretty little town, she had to admit. Built at the turn of the century as a spa town and ski resort, it had once been an ultra-fashionable holiday destination for the rich and famous. However, the town's popularity had soon waned and the celebrities had drifted off in search of warmer climes; Arklay was now little more than a faded resort town with a population of old people, wealthy eccentrics, well-to-do families and bored teenagers, none of whom had anything to do.

Yes, it was exceptionally pretty to look at. However, if you looked past the trappings of gorgeous Victorian-era homes and picturesque mountain scenery, things were very ugly indeed. Unemployment, alcoholism and drug addiction were rife in the town, and the suicide rate was the highest in the county. People wandered around aimlessly with nothing to do and nowhere to go, and the town looked more run-down and dilapidated with every passing year.

Apathy reigned supreme in Arklay, she thought, and its second-in-command was the mayor, Thomas Maddigan. Mayor Maddigan was, in the words of Ellie's father, "a corrupt jerk who owns most of the town" and was notorious for serving eviction notices to anyone who dared to get in his way. Since most people in the town rented their houses, it was unsurprising that few dared to vote for anyone else in the local elections. This meant that Mayor Maddigan carried on winning one landslide victory after another, driving Arklay further into an ever-deepening rut.

The whole town seemed hopelessly lethargic, as if it had become resigned to its fate and was just waiting for the end. It angered Ellie sometimes; she felt so frustrated, so powerless against this bully who treated the town like his own personal playground and let his arrogant, bullying teenage son run rampant. Still, what could she do? It seemed as if there was no way to reverse the town's decay, or to cast out the man who presided over the town's misfortune year after year without lifting a finger to stop it.

_One day,_ she thought_, things will be different. Things are going to change around here soon, I just know it__._

Something appeared to be changing at the far end of the street. Ellie peered over her glasses at one of the houses - the one that had been turned into apartments just before the town's prosperity took a turn for the worse.

An attractive woman with masses of curly strawberry-blonde hair was carrying cardboard boxes in through the front door. A few moments later, Ellie could see the woman moving around in the second-floor apartment, which had been unoccupied for several years. Just visible through the picture window, she was setting the boxes down on the floor.

This puzzled Ellie. She'd been told that the apartment had once belonged to a retired dentist, George Harlech, and his wife Rosemary. The couple had had two daughters - twins - and the apartment had been left to the girls after their deaths. One of the daughters, a wealthy scientist with several properties in the Raccoon area, hadn't wanted it and had left it in the hands of her sister, an overworked and impoverished junior doctor living on the outskirts of Raccoon City.

There had been no "For Sale" sign outside the apartment, and this woman definitely wasn't an impoverished junior doctor - so who was she, and what was she doing here?

Ellie shrugged. Whatever was going on, it was no business of hers. Besides, she'd be late for band practice if she stuck around here much longer. Finishing off the last crust of her toast, she hurried away down the street and left the mysterious woman and her cardboard boxes far behind.

xxxxxxxxxx

Meanwhile, a little car was winding its way slowly up the mountain road, coughing out clouds of grey exhaust fumes into the still mountain air. It contained three passengers, two of whom were asleep, and a third who was unwittingly pushing the driver towards total nervous breakdown.

"Are we there yet?"

The driver flinched. She'd been under a lot of pressure lately, and this really wasn't helping.

Being pestered was nothing new, of course. Even the most casual observer could see that the stress of being constantly harassed had taken its toll on the woman's body. The expression of permanent worry etched on her thin, pale face had added at least another ten years onto her real age, which was twenty-seven. The dark circles under her blue-grey eyes were just about concealed by a pair of glasses, but even make-up and the short blonde hair that framed her face couldn't hide the fact that she hadn't been getting enough to eat as of late.

"Are we there yet?" came the refrain from the passenger seat again.

The driver closed her eyes for a second and exhaled deeply. Her lips moved as she counted silently to ten.

"I said, are we - " the passenger began.

"No we are _not_," interrupted the driver. "Now please shut up and stop bothering me. I'm trying to drive."

She wished that she had chosen to wear her lab coat over her jeans and sweater. Quite apart from the fact that it would have been another layer of clothing to keep her warm in the chilly little rust-bucket that she was driving, its capacious pockets had been perfect for storing large quantities of Valium. She hadn't yet decided whether this would have been for herself or her travelling companion. Either option would be acceptable right about now, she thought grimly.

It wasn't that she didn't _like_ Renée, she reminded herself, glancing briefly at the young woman with short, spiky dark hair, who was fidgeting restlessly in the passenger seat, clearly bored out of her mind. Renée was a great kid and a good friend. It was just that the perky nineteen-year old seemed to be on a permanent sugar-high and was physically incapable of relaxing, even for a minute. Her bright brown eyes were darting from side to side as she took in her surroundings, and she was bouncing slightly in her seat, too, full of get-up-and-go even though she couldn't actually get up and go anywhere.

Without warning, the car hit a rough patch in the road. It juddered and rattled over the bumps, shaking everything inside it until the driver's brain felt as if it was reverberating inside her skull. She could _definitely _feel a headache coming on.

"Dr H?" said Renée, who was settling down a little now that the car was doing all the bouncing on her behalf. "Are you sure this is the right way? The road's getting a little rough, isn't it?"

"Trust me, this is the way," said the driver, whose name was Dr Clarissa Harlech. "I should know, I spent my entire childhood up in the mountains. The roads up here have always been bad. We're just lucky the snow hasn't come yet, or we'd probably have had to walk up here in snowshoes."

"Wow," said Renée, and she looked out of the window at the vast swathes of forest-covered mountains. "Pretty up here, though."

"Oh, it's gorgeous. I'd forgotten how beautiful it was up here," said Dr Harlech. The road was smoothing out again, and she felt a bit better now; her headache was slowly ebbing away. "The last time I came back up here was with Linda to sort out our parents' wills a few years ago. I haven't been back since; I never had the time. But I didn't really miss it all that much."

"Shame," said Renée. "It sounded like a nice place, from what you told us."

"Don't get me wrong, it's a nice place, but there's not much to do in the mountains," said Dr Harlech. "Still, in many ways that's a good thing," she added, after a moment's thought. "At least it's quiet and peaceful. Good place to recuperate."

"Nothing to do? I thought you said it was a ski resort," said Renée, frowning.

"Well, it used to be a spa town a long time ago, and it did double-duty as a ski resort in the snowy months," Dr Harlech explained. "All the rich people used to come and bathe in the hot springs, and in the winter they'd go skiing too. That way, the town got a steady income all year round - at least until all the millionaires discovered beach holidays."

"Do people still go skiing there?" said Renée, gazing dreamily at the mountains.

"No, not any more," said Dr Harlech, and she swerved to avoid a fallen branch in the road. "All that's long gone. Umbrella used to provide some jobs up here, because they needed staff for the Spencer mansion, but of course that's all gone now too. People just live here and commute to work, though I'm not sure what they're going to do now that Raccoon City's gone. The closest big town now is Rose Bay City, and that's miles away."

"Speaking of Raccoon City, have you heard from your sister?" asked Renée.

"No, but I'm not surprised," said Dr Harlech. "She probably thinks I'm dead."

"Are you sure she's still alive?" said Renée doubtfully.

"Oh, I don't doubt that for a minute," said Dr Harlech. "Linda was Head of Research, remember? All the higher-ups were evacuated by helicopter as soon as things started getting really bad. I don't know where she is now, but my guess is that she's been transferred to another facility elsewhere."

"She must be worried about you," said Renée.

"Heavens, no," said Dr Harlech dismissively. "She never liked me very much. I shouldn't think that she'd be terribly upset if something happened to me. How's _your _sister, anyway?"

"Thérèse? Much better," said Renée happily. "Jill and Barry had her flown in to Canada on Tuesday to stay with Barry's family. She's in the hospital and doing well. Another five or six treatment sessions, and the doctors think she'll be cured."

"That's wonderful news. I'm glad she's all right," said Dr Harlech.

"Thank you for paying for everything," said Renée. "Sorry about the trouble with my parents, too. They just didn't want to leave New Orleans. They think people will rob their house while they're away. They're paranoid like that."

"I understand," said Dr Harlech, nodding sympathetically. "But they should be all right. My main concern was Thérèse; I'm glad she's safely out of the way."

"Me too. At least I can go to Europe with you guys without having to worry about whether she's okay," said Renée. "You think the kids will be okay here, though?"

"They'll be fine. Don't worry about them," Dr Harlech assured her.

Renée nodded and looked out of the window again.

"Are we there yet?" she said after a while.

Dr Harlech gritted her teeth, and she gripped the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles whitened.

"Renée," she said calmly, all the while trying to suppress the terrible urge to smite her passenger repeatedly with the driver's handbook, "please don't start that again. It's a rather long walk up the mountain and I'm sure you'd rather stay in the car. You're quite welcome to do so, on the condition that you don't ask questions like "Are we there yet?". If we were there, I would have _said_ so. Now shut up."

Renée blinked.

"Okay," she said. "That seems fair. Are we, though?"

"Almost," said Dr Harlech. "Now _please, _stop asking. I already said I'd let you know when we get there. Not that you'll be terribly excited when we do. We'll be off again as soon as we've dropped off the kids."

Renée merely shrugged.

"Doesn't bother me," she said. "I'm just waiting for a chance to stop so I can walk around. I've got cramp in my legs. Couldn't you find a bigger car to rent, Dr H?"

"Well, you try renting an SUV when half of your assets got blown up with Raccoon City," said Dr Harlech irritably. "The rental company didn't take credit cards, so I had to take what I could get with what little cash I had on me. I spent most of my parents' inheritance taking care of your sister's treatment for you, and what I have left will have to go towards this trip to Europe. I can't afford to rent a big expensive car for a short round-trip. If you don't like it - "

"Yeah, yeah, I know. If I don't like it, I can get out and walk."

"Precisely."

Dr Harlech returned her full attention to the road ahead.

Renée sighed, and stared out of the window yet again. However, they were now in the middle of Raccoon Forest and the beautiful mountain scenery was lost from view. Trees, she soon decided, were boring.

She turned around to look at the back of the car. Two teenagers, a boy and a girl, were dozing quietly on the back seat. Renée smiled fondly at the sight of them; she liked those kids, and even though she hadn't known them for long, she was definitely going to miss them.

"Hey, guys, Dr H says we're almost there," she said. "You need to wake up now."

The girl stirred a little, and lifted her head. Her long, dark brown hair was tousled from sleep. Opening a pair of deep brown eyes, she looked quizzically at Renée, and her pretty, rounded face creased in a faint frown.

"Are we there yet?" she said sleepily.

Out of the corner of her eye, Renée saw Dr Harlech flinch again, but this time she said nothing, perhaps understanding that sleep had left the girl confused and disorientated.

"Yeah, we're almost there, Lisa," she told her. "You and Jack need to get ready. We'll be there in a few minutes."

"Okay," yawned the girl.

She leaned over towards her companion and shook him by the shoulder.

"Jack, we're nearly there," she told him gently. "Wake up."

"Huh? Wha'?" said the boy sleepily.

"I said, we're nearly there," Lisa repeated. "Renée and Dr H say we'll be there in a few minutes. You need to wake up."

"Ugh…"

The boy groaned, and made a concerted effort to sit up, but failed miserably and slumped back in his seat, closing his eyes again.

"No, Jack, wake up," said Lisa firmly, and she shook him again. "I know you're tired, but we're almost there. You can sleep some more later if you need to. Come on, wake up."

Jack mumbled something unintelligible in Spanish, and turned over. The frown on Lisa's pretty face deepened into an impatient scowl.

"Jack Carpenter, wake up _this instant_!" she snapped.

This did the trick - at once Jack sat up sharply, startled out of his drowsy state. His blue eyes opened wide, and he looked around, turning his head in little quick movements.

"Where we be?" he gasped.

"Not far from Arklay," Lisa told him. "Now stay awake, okay?"

"Okay, Lise," he said, settling back into his seat and resting his head on her shoulder. "I ain't gonna sleep no more. Think you scare me too much for me to sleep anyway."

"That was the idea," said Lisa severely, but the frown that creased her face soon smoothed out into a smile as Jack kissed her on the cheek. She ruffled his blond hair affectionately in return.

"Hey, dunt do that," he protested feebly, pushing his dishevelled fringe out of his eyes.

"You could always cut your hair and stop me from doing it," Lisa teased.

"Oh really, _Señorita_ "Leave-You-Fringe-Like-It-Be, It-Look-Real-Cute"?" Jack said, grinning. Anyway, why you be complainin' 'bout it? 's short back an' sides, right?"

Lisa smiled again.

"Yes, I suppose so. And I was just teasing. I like your fringe long. Don't know how you can see where you're going when it's down to your eyes, though."

"Ah, you be worth walkin' into stuff for," said Jack, grinning again, and Lisa blushed.

The trees were thinning now, giving way to smaller, younger trees and undergrowth; then, suddenly, the car rounded a corner and tall white houses rose into view, their windows and slate roofs gleaming brightly in the light of a new day. Lisa heard Renée gasp quietly, her breath taken away by the view of these beautiful houses set against the natural splendour of the mountains and forest. Jack too was staring in awe at it, as if he had never seen mountains or houses before.

As for Dr Harlech, she was smiling to herself. Lisa remembered that the scientist had grown up in Arklay, and it was now plain to see that despite moving away and later dismissing it as nothing special, Dr Harlech had always secretly thought of this place as home.

"Home sweet home, huh, Dr H?" said Renée at last.

"No," said Dr Harlech, rather wistfully. There was a definite hint of regret in her voice. "Not for me. Much as I love Arklay, this isn't my home any more. I've moved on from this place. But I liked it up here in the mountains when I was a kid, and I think Jack and Lisa will like it here too. It's the perfect place for them to get over what happened in Raccoon City."

"Aren't they going to be bored here? You said there wasn't much to do," said Renée hesitantly.

"Renée, before you ask, the answer is no," said Dr Harlech instantly. "You know perfectly well that we can't take them with us."

"I _know_ that," said Renée, sounding slightly irritated by this comment. "I'm just wondering what they're going to do for fun up here. Rest and relaxation can get old after a while. Are they going to be happy here?"

"Well, this is only temporary, Renée," Dr Harlech assured her. "They probably won't be here for more than a month or two at the most. Unless of course they really like it here and want to stay, in which case we can arrange something more permanent for them."

"Whatever floats their boat, I guess," said Renée. "What do you think, guys? You think you'll like it here?"

"It looks nice enough," said Lisa. "I don't see why we wouldn't like it here. It's pretty, and it looks calm and peaceful. We could do with the change of pace."

"Good," said Dr Harlech. "I'm glad to hear that. I'm sure the rest will do you both the world of good. After all, you've been through a lot in the past month."

Lisa and Jack both nodded vigorously at this, the understatement of the year. If escaping from zombies, battling monsters, witnessing the horrible deaths of their families and friends, being infected with a terrible virus and, finally, seeing their town blown up on national television wasn't considered a lot to go through, then they didn't know what was.

"Anyway," said Dr Harlech, as the car pulled up outside one of the houses with a screech of brakes. "We're here. Welcome to Arklay, kids."

Driver and passengers opened the car doors and climbed out. While Dr Harlech and Renée went round to the back of the car to remove Jack and Lisa's few possessions from the trunk, Jack and Lisa stared up at their new home.

Like most of the other houses in the street, it was three storeys high and painted a brilliant white, with high windows and a dark grey slate roof. The front door of the house was painted a glossy black, with a slightly tarnished brass doorknocker and matching letterbox. Beside the door were three different doorbells, one for each apartment in the building. Labels with names in faded blue ink stated who lived in each one; the second one was marked "Harlech".

There was a veranda on the first floor which looked out onto an unkempt garden, and to Lisa's delight, the second-floor apartment that was to be their new abode had a set of French doors leading out onto a beautiful wrought-iron balcony.

_I__'__ve always wanted to live in a house with a balcony,_ she thought. _It__'__s just a shame I__'__m going to live here under these circumstances. I bet Mom would have liked this house__…_

"Nice place," said Jack admiringly. "I think I could get used to livin' here."

"That's good," said Renée, dropping a pair of backpacks at their feet. "We're glad you like it here."

She went back to help Dr Harlech unload a big pile of blankets and pillows from the car. Jack and Lisa went to help them, but were promptly shooed away again.

"Don't worry about all this stuff," Renée told them, dismissing their entreaties to let them help. "We'll bring all this up for you. Go upstairs and make yourselves at home, okay? Amber's upstairs too, she got some groceries for you. Go and say hi to her."

"Okay," said Lisa. "Thanks, Renée."

"No problem," grunted Renée, picking up a large stack of thick blankets and handing them to Dr Harlech, who staggered slightly under the weight.

Lisa and Jack picked up their backpacks and went up to the house, their shoes crunching on the gravel path. The front door was ajar and swung open at a light touch, revealing a large and airy foyer painted in magnolia and cream. There was a crystal chandelier hanging above them and a beautiful tiled floor underfoot, and on a coffee table near the foot of the staircase was a large vase filled with brightly coloured flowers.

Jack glanced at Lisa's rapturous expression. He knew all too well about her love of beautiful places and things; judging by the look on her face, she was in interior design heaven.

"This is so _beautiful_!" she cried. "It reminds me of…"

Her words trailed away, and her euphoric expression drained away; now she looked troubled and sad.

"… of home," she finished. "Mom always used to put a vase of flowers in the hall. She'd cut fresh flowers from the garden every other day and then she'd put them in her best china vase, the blue and white one that my grandmother gave her…"

She sighed heavily.

"Come on, Lise," said Jack, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You no should think 'bout this stuff, you gonna make youself sad 'gain. You never gonna get over it if you keep thinkin' 'bout the past the whole time."

"I can't help it, Jack," said Lisa, sighing. "I just can't stop thinking about it. I even dream about going home and seeing my mom and dad again. I know they're gone, but I just can't seem to let go. I miss them so much."

There was an awkward silence as they both tried to think of something to say.

"Come on," said Jack at last, taking Lisa by the hand. "We go upstairs an' find Amber, huh?"

They climbed the staircase to the second floor and saw the front door of the apartment, already open. Lisa and Jack stepped over the threshold and right into an elegant living room. Large, airy and well-lit, the room had been painted a warm cream colour and was grandly furnished. The three-piece suite in particular looked expensive; it was made from polished wood and upholstered in a soft ivory-coloured material. In front of the couch was a coffee table in the same dark-coloured wood, which had been polished until it gleamed.

On the far side of the room was an intricately-carved white marble fireplace, with a gold carriage clock and a pair of ornate candlesticks sitting on the mantelpiece; above the fireplace was a gigantic gold-framed mirror, which reflected almost the entire room. In the far corner of the room, near the fireplace, was a sleek, shiny black grand piano that wouldn't have looked out of place in a concert hall.

Behind them was a pair of well-stocked bookcases, one on either side of the front door, and two oil paintings of indeterminate value. Beneath their feet was a Persian rug, which had been positioned very carefully on the wooden floor, and - they looked up - above them was a chandelier, identical to the one downstairs, suspended from the high ceiling and casting little rainbows of light all around them.

Their jaws dropping in amazement, Jack and Lisa kept looking around at the room and its contents again, not quite believing what they were seeing.

"Whoa," said Jack at last, lost for words.

Lisa said nothing, but privately wondered how rich Dr Harlech's parents had really been. If they'd been so affluent, then why had Dr Harlech been left to struggle financially?

Nevertheless, it was beautiful here. Sunlight was streaming in through the tall windows and the French doors on the left-hand side of the room. The French doors were wide open, and the net curtains at the windows were billowing in the breeze; just visible on the balcony, leaning on the edge and admiring the view, was a familiar figure.

"Amber!" they both cried, rushing through the French doors and out onto the balcony.

Amber, a tall and slender young woman with bright green eyes and a glorious mane of strawberry-blonde curls, started at the sound of her name. When she saw Jack and Lisa, however, she broke into a broad grin that took several years off an already youthful face.

"Jack! Lisa!" she exclaimed, and hugged them both tightly. "I missed you guys… how was the trip? Did you get here okay?"

"We slept most of the way," Lisa admitted. "It's too early for me, I know that."

"Early morning seems popular around here," said Amber, turning back to the view from the balcony. "I heard someone playing punk music earlier - really loud, too. Sounded like it was coming from a couple of blocks away."

"Bet the neighbours just _love_ 'em for doin' that on a Sunday mornin'," said Jack, grinning.

"I'm sure it's a felony to play music that loud at this hour," said Amber, with a small frown. "Not that I can do much about it, since I'm all that's left of the RPD. They have their own police force here, too, so it's probably out of my jurisdiction. Oh well. You like it here?"

"I think it's the most beautiful place I've ever seen," said Lisa, with feeling.

"Yeah, Dr H must be real rich to live up here," said Jack, looking back at the apartment's interior. "'s like a palace in there. That one room look bigger'n Aunt Rosa's whole apartment."

"Clarissa didn't live up here," said Amber, leaning on the edge of the balcony again. "She grew up here, but she told me the other day that back in Raccoon City she lived in an apartment in a pretty bad area of town - I think it was Masefield Park, near the outskirts. She wasn't rich if she lived there, that's for certain. That place was a dump."

"Then what 'bout all those chandeliers an' the piano an' stuff? Ain't that stuff expensive? I thought you hadda be real rich to afford stuff like that," said Jack.

"Her parents were rich, Jack," said Amber patiently. "She wasn't. Apparently her sister was her parents' favourite and she got all the preferential treatment and handouts. Clarissa pretty much had to fend for herself."

"But her mama an' dad leave her money when they die - why dint she spend it?" said Jack, puzzled. "If I had money like that, I no would leave it in the bank an' keep livin' in Masefield Park. I woulda bought a house in uptown or somethin'."

Amber shrugged.

"Either she didn't have time to spend it, or she was saving it for a rainy day. I don't know, but it certainly came in handy in the end," she said.

"It was kind of her to spend so much of it on Renée's sister," said Lisa. "She didn't have to do that. It sounded like an awful lot of money."

"I guess it's her way of making up for her involvement with Umbrella," said Amber. "You know how guilty she felt about working on their bioweapons programme, even if it wasn't really her fault. Or maybe she just felt sorry for Renée because she'd been blackmailed by the company too. Who knows?"

"Could be both. It's hard to tell," said Lisa.

"Yeah…"

Amber trailed off, and looked down at the little rental car parked below them.

"I got some groceries for you kids," she said abruptly, steering the conversation back to practical matters. "I left them on the kitchen table along with the spare key. We got some new clothes for you, too; they're hanging up in the closets in your rooms. If you need money, we've set up an account for you with the bank in town, and that should cover essentials. No buying stuff that you don't need, okay? The occasional rented movie or something is fine, but don't bring a Ferrari home, because we're sure as hell not paying for it. We've left you a couple of contact numbers, in case you need to get hold of us while we're away, but please don't call unless it's urgent."

She paused briefly for thought.

"Uh… what else? Oh, yeah, you start back at school tomorrow. Survivors or not, you kids still need an education. Arklay High's a good school, from what Clarissa told us, so you should do just fine there. There's a map of the town on the table, too, so no lame excuses about not being able to find the place. Okay?"

"Okay," said Jack and Lisa, nodding.

"I think that's pretty much everything you need," said Amber. "You can keep your guns, but _only _for self-defence, and you're _not _to take them outside of this apartment. Now, you be good kids, behave yourselves, work hard at school, and keep the place tidy, because this is still Clarissa's apartment. Mrs Winfield downstairs is an old friend of Clarissa's family, and she's there if you need her. And don't forget to water the plants and feed your hamsters."

"Amber, we gave the hamsters away to a little girl in Tumbleweed," Lisa pointed out. "You know, the cute little red-haired girl who told us she'd always wanted a pet hamster. She called them Fluffball and Elvis. Remember?"

"Oh yeah," said Amber, smacking herself in the forehead. "I forgot. Sorry, it's been a hectic few weeks."

From inside came the sounds of footsteps on the stairs. This was accompanied by some muffled shouting; it sounded as though Dr Harlech and Renée were ready and waiting to leave.

Amber gave Jack and Lisa an apologetic look.

"Well… I'd better get going," she said reluctantly. "We've got to meet up with Barry, Jill and Carlos in Rose Bay City this afternoon before we head for the airport, and we've got a long way to travel."

Amber stood up straight and headed for the French doors. She put her hand on one of the door handles, as if to close the door behind her, but she hesitated and turned around to face Lisa and Jack again.

"You two _are _going to be okay here, aren't you?" she asked them.

"We'll be fine, Amber," Lisa promised her. "Don't worry about us. We're more worried about you and the others. Your whole taking-out-Umbrella mission sounds pretty dangerous. I hope you'll be all right out there."

"Lisa, we're all trained to handle danger - well, except Clarissa," Amber admitted. "But she managed to take out a Tyrant on her own, so I'm sure she can look after herself. Try not to worry too much about us. Your main concern now is getting on with your own lives."

"We know, but you're our friends. We don't want you to get hurt. Please take good care of yourselves, won't you?" said Lisa.

"Yeah, we will," said Amber.

Her expression softened, then she suddenly flung her arms around Jack and Lisa again, wrapping them up in another tight hug.

"Oh - I'm going to miss you kids," she said. "I wish we could let you come with us. It's not going to be the same without you two around to save our butts."

The two teenagers both grinned at the memory of having saved the supposedly more intelligent and responsible adults on multiple occasions, all during the same twenty-four hour period.

"We gonna miss you too, Amber," said Jack, once he and Lisa had been released from Amber's hug. "It ain't gonna be the same without you an' Dr H an' Renée around."

"Amber, time to go!" called Renée from somewhere inside the apartment. "Seriously, Dr H says we have to leave, or we'll be late meeting Jill and Carlos and that other guy!"

Amber straightened up again and surreptitiously wiped her eyes.

"You take care, kids," she told them. "We should be back soon, maybe in a few weeks if all goes well. Until then, look after yourselves. Hope you have fun here in Arklay."

"Good luck in Europe," said Jack. "Kick some Umbrella ass for us, yeah?"

"Oh, we will," said Amber, smiling wickedly. "No doubt about that!"

She went back inside, pausing for a moment to wave goodbye to them, and left the apartment. Once the sound of footsteps on the stairs had faded away, Jack and Lisa looked over the edge of the balcony at the street below and saw Amber walking towards the car with Renée and Dr Harlech.

"Are you _sure_ they'll be all right?" they heard her say to the other two.

"They'll be fine, Amber," Dr Harlech assured her, although Jack and Lisa detected a tinge of doubt in the words.

"This sucks," said Renée sulkily. "I wish we could take them with us. We'd defeat Umbrella a whole lot quicker with them on our side."

"But they're just children, Renée," Dr Harlech reminded her. "I know they did well to stay alive in Raccoon City, but from now on it's our responsibility to keep them out of danger. This is a nice safe place for them to readjust to normal life. They've been through a lot and they need time to recover. This is the best place for them to be right now. You know that."

"Yeah," said Renée, who looked morose even from this elevation. "I'm going to miss them, though. I love those kids. I think they're awesome."

"Same here," said Amber, now sniffling quietly. "I love them too…"

"Me too," said Dr Harlech, and now her voice was cracking as well. "Damn it, did you really have to remind me? I was trying not to think about it so I wouldn't cry in front of anyone else…"

The three women looked at each other, then simultaneously burst into tears.

"Come on, get in the car, they'll hear us…" sobbed Dr Harlech, pushing a bawling Amber towards the car. "You don't want to upset them, do you?"

Amber's anguished howls doubled in intensity.

"Shut up, shut _up_, they're going to hear us and then _they__'__ll_ cry, and then we'll cry some more, and that'll make them worse, and then none of us will _ever _stop," said Renée tearfully, clambering into the front passenger seat at the same time as Amber attempted to get in the front seat of the car. "Hey, get in the back, I ride shotgun!"

There was a brief scuffle over who got to ride in the front passenger seat, which Renée eventually won; Amber landed backwards in the road with a wail of indignation as the car door slammed shut, then went reluctantly to the back seat of the car and got in.

Dr Harlech opened the door on her side, blew her nose noisily, then she got into the driver's seat and slammed the door again. The car drove off in a noxious grey cloud of exhaust fumes, and was soon little more than a dwindling speck in the distance.

Jack looked at Lisa, who was staring sadly at the smoke that the car had left behind.

"_You _ain't gonna cry, right, Lise?" he said anxiously.

Lisa shook her head.

"No, I'm not," she said. "They said they'd be fine. We said we'd be fine too. And that's how it's going to be. Besides, they're going to come back for us soon. It's not like we're never going to see them again, right?"

"Yeah," said Jack. "You be right as usual, Lise. Things gonna be fine. Come on, we should look around this place some more. Wonder if all the rooms be fancy like this one?"

He went back inside to explore the apartment. Lisa watched him go, smiling despite her sadness at seeing three of her few remaining friends leave, on a dangerous mission to take out the European branches of the world's most powerful and deadly corporation. Umbrella Pharmaceuticals Inc. had already killed thousands of people with the viruses it had manufactured, and she was worried that it might be about to claim three more victims.

That said, Amber, Renée and Dr Harlech had survived them once, so they were sure to triumph again. She had to keep believing that, or she'd go insane with worry.

"Wow, Lise, you oughta take a look at this!" she heard Jack exclaim from inside the apartment.

She smiled again at the sound of that voice, not least because she'd never thought that she'd hear it again. Jack had almost died after being infected with one of Umbrella's terrible viruses back in Raccoon City. Only her willingness to brave all kinds of assorted horrors to find a cure had saved his life.

Best friend… and boyfriend now, of course. They'd been covering up their feelings for each other in the name of social conformity for too long. It was high time that the rich, privileged uptown girl and the poor, scruffy downtown boy told the world that they could still be happy together in spite of their differences. Besides, Raccoon City was gone, so there was no uptown-downtown divide any more - or even an uptown or a downtown, now that she thought about it. All that had gone up in flames when the missile struck the town.

"Lise? Come see this, I know you gonna love it. You like that Art Nouveau stuff, right?"

"All right, I'm coming," Lisa called, and went inside. She shut the French doors behind her and went in search of her boyfriend.

Things, she thought, were looking pretty good for them both right now. They had a safe and beautiful place to live, a new school at which they could make a fresh start, and they were still together, in spite of everything that they'd been through. Best of all, there was no possibility whatsoever of further viral outbreaks occurring in the region.

_Well, there wouldn't be, now that Umbrella's regional headquarters and facilities are all gone. Unless of course they built a new one, but people would never allow that after what just happened to Raccoon City. So we're completely safe. Nothing bad is going to happen. From now on, our lives will be happy and peaceful._

At least, she hoped so.

_Then again, you never know_, she thought, as she went through into a dining room that, as Jack had indicated, was furnished entirely with Art Nouveau-style wooden furniture - a large dining table and six matching chairs, a sideboard and a drinks cabinet - and decorated in the same style.

_What if it could happen again?_ she thought, smiling outwardly but secretly unnerved by the terrifying prospect of a repeat performance of the T-Virus. _What if it can happen?_

_What if it does…?_

xxxxxxxxxx

_Click_.

The little noise interrupted the repetitive drone of a phone ringing endlessly at the other end of the line.

"_Hazlitt_," said a middle-aged male voice crisply.

"It took you long enough," the woman snapped. "I've been trying to get hold of you for hours."

"_I__'__ve been trying to get away for hours. The meeting was as interminable as it sounded. The board of directors can make a simple ten-minute discussion stretch to four hours, and that tiresome old fool Spencer is the worst of them. Four hours of posturing and overblown pomposity. It__'__s enough to bore one to tears._"

"The man's in love with his own voice," said the woman curtly.

"_Q__uite_," said the man, with a cough. "_Now, enough of Spencer. Report._"

"The decontamination squads are picking over the remains of the site even as we speak."

"_Anything?_"

"Nothing so far. They went right down to the deepest levels and the most they found were some lumps of molten metal and a large pile of dust. They said that it looked organic - they've taken some samples. From the size of it, I'm guessing that it was the subject. Initial forensic reports are in agreement."

"_But the blast couldn__'__t possibly have penetrated that far down._"

"Precisely. They don't think it was the blast."

"_Impossible. There__'__s no other way to destroy something like that._"

"Nevertheless, the fact remains that the subject has been terminated."

"_Redmond__… __this is her doing, isn't it?_"

"I highly doubt it. The rumours weren't true - I had the place searched on numerous occasions. I checked there myself several times and found nothing. _Nothing_. Not a trace of evidence to suggest that she was doing anything other than her assigned work. I personally believe that it was never anything more than gossip and hearsay."

"_Then it was sabotage - someone must have tampered with the project._"

"Possible, I'll grant you that, but highly unlikely. Although if that had been the case, then my money would have been on Hartley."

"_Not him. He knew better than to question the company__'__s decisions._"

"No, not him - Jonathan was a model employee. I mean _her_."

"_Elizabeth was__… __difficult, sometimes, I__'__ll agree, but all she needed was a little persuasion to help her on her way. She worked like a demon once she was given the proper incentive._"

"I'm not surprised. All she cared about was her husband and that brat of theirs - Leanne, or Eliza, or whatever her name was. I bet all you had to do was mention their names in the right context to have her running scared."

"_Indeed. However, we__'__re straying away from the point. The point is that the subject was eliminated somehow, and not by the blast. We need to find out how and why, and promptly. The project cannot be allowed to fail._"

"It's already failed. Millions of dollars and months of research completely wasted. There's nothing left of the project."

"_On the contrary. Samples were smuggled out of the laboratory after the incident in July, and all the information regarding the project was transferred to the central computer network as soon as it became clear that the Raccoon City outbreak could not be contained. The seeds of the Lucifer Project can be resown - all we need is a new location and some new staff, and the phoenix will rise from the ashes once more._"

"And where do you propose that we get these things?"

"_My dear Dr Lampeter, we already have everything we need. It__'__s merely a question of rebuilding__…_"

xxxxxxxxxx

Morning gave way to afternoon, and afternoon to evening. By now Jack and Lisa had thoroughly explored the apartment, and found it to their liking. Lisa had particularly admired her new bedroom, a serene and beautiful space with clean white walls, a double bed with a rose-patterned quilt, a small chandelier - the late Mr and Mrs Harlech had obviously liked chandeliers - and an antique dressing-table cluttered with old jewellery and French perfume.

Jack wasn't quite so content with his new living quarters. His room had turned out to be painted a garish pink colour, filled with cute stuffed animals and the distressing scent of carpet fluff and strong nail polish. The bunk-beds and the faded music posters on the walls suggested that the young Harlech twins had once slept here.

"Ah, well," Jack had reflected later. "Better than no room at all, right? Maybe if we stay here for good, I can ask Dr H if I can redecorate. This room would look _muy bien _with some blue paint an' a coupla metal posters on the walls."

"They'd go really well with the teddy bears in the corner," Lisa had informed him solemnly, before bursting into giggles.

Dinner had been a quiet but pleasant affair, eaten at the kitchen table. Lisa had never been much good at cookery, despite countless meals eaten alone at home, so Jack had taken charge and made a pair of perfect omelettes. Lisa had been surprised by this; she'd never known that Jack could cook at all, let alone to this standard.

"Aunt Rosa teach me how to make 'em," Jack told her, on being asked how he'd learned to cook so well. "Dunt know how you uptown folks eat, but Auntie always used to cook everythin' from scratch, an' she make me learn every one of her recipes by heart so I know how to do it too. She say there be no excuse for a Jemez no learnin' how to cook."

"But you're a Carpenter," Lisa had said, puzzled.

"Sure, that too, but she say that dint matter," said Jack dismissively. "She tell me my mama would be real mad if she think a kid of hers dint know how to cook. So I learn. I can teach you too if you want."

It was rare for Jack to talk about his mother at all, and Lisa had listened carefully in the hope of learning more. However, Jack had left it at that, and she hadn't wanted to intrude by asking any more questions.

She still wondered from time to time what had happened to his mother, or why his father was in a state penitentiary in California, Jack's original home and place of birth. Jack's past was shrouded in mystery - all she knew was that his mother had died suddenly when Jack was five or six, that his father had been imprisoned shortly afterwards, and that he had been sent to live with his mother's sister in Mexico for the next decade. He and his aunt had returned to America and settled in Raccoon City a few months ago, she'd met him at school, and the rest was history.

Aunt Rosa was dead now, of course. The T-Virus had killed the warm-hearted and motherly woman who had cared for her nephew as though he was her own son, just as it had killed Lisa's own parents. The circumstances of their guardians' deaths had been rather different, although the cause of death was the same - Aunt Rosa, a prostitute by trade, had contracted the virus after being bitten by one of her clients, while her parents, Drs Jonathan and Elizabeth Hartley, had been infected along with all the other Umbrella employees toiling in the secret laboratory complex hidden beneath the Umbrella building in Raccoon City.

Either way, Umbrella was to blame for having stolen their families from them. One day, she and Jack would make them pay for what they'd done. Until then, however, they could get on with their omelettes and the remainder of their teenage years in peace.

All things considered, it had been a nice day. Jack's only complaint was that there was no television set in the house - it appeared that Dr Harlech's parents had disliked the medium of television intensely and refused to have a set in the house. Lisa decided that Dr Harlech and her sister must have compensated for this by making their own entertainment. There were certainly enough books in the house for them to read, plus a very fine piano on which to practise, and she and Jack had discovered a chess set and an easel in the study, so painting and board games had obviously been on the agenda too. So, apparently, had the old record player and the collection of Seventies disco LPs underneath the bunk beds in Jack's room.

_Those poor kids,_ she thought. _Books, chess, painting and piano are all very nice, but only Seventies disco to listen to? No punk, no rock, no heavy metal? No wonder Linda turned evil and Clarissa ended up all twitchy and neurotic. I can__'__t say I blame either of them._

"It ain't fair," Jack complained. "They be showin' _Curse Of The Black Mountains _on RCM tonight. That be my favourite movie. You ever see it, Lise? The one where the evil scientist make this monster in his castle an' he send the monster down the mountain to eat the villagers? That be the most awesome movie _ever_."

"You're so ungrateful, Jack Carpenter," admonished Lisa. "You're lucky we have anywhere to go at all, and now you're complaining that there's no television? Besides, after what happened to us in Raccoon City, do you really want to watch a movie about evil scientists sending monsters down into a town to eat people?"

"Uh… good point," said Jack, after some thought. "I dint think 'bout it like that. Guess I ain't gonna be watchin' that movie 'gain any time soon. There be plenty of other old horror movies I like though. You ever see _Giant Ants Ate Our City! _?"

"Giant mutant creatures eating stuff?" said Lisa incredulously. "That's just as bad. Remember the zombie frogs? And the giant moth in the Umbrella building?"

"Oh yeah. Dammit, I _never _gonna be able to watch old sci-fi B-movies 'gain. 'Specially _Revenge Of The Zombie Journalists_. _Muchas gracias_, Umbrella. Bad enough you kill my aunt an' my _amigos_ an' get my home blown up, but now you stop me from watchin' movies 'bout giant ants too? That stinks…"

Jack yawned. Night came much more quickly up here in the mountains, he thought; the sky was darkening fast, even though it was still relatively early. Though he would normally have stayed up much later than this in Raccoon City, he felt strangely sleepy.

"Tired?" said Lisa, with gentle concern.

Jack nodded, stifling another yawn.

"Me too," said Lisa, now trying not to yawn herself. "We should get an early night. We've got school tomorrow."

"'kay. Night, Lise."

"Night, Jack. Sleep well."

"You too, _querida_."

They exchanged a brief goodnight kiss, then switched off the living room lights and went to their separate rooms.

Closing the door behind him, Jack surveyed the room that would serve as his own for the time being, and wondered which of the bunk beds to choose. Eventually deciding on the bottom bunk, he didn't even bother getting changed for bed; he just climbed in and pulled the covers back over him, settling down into the soft mattress.

He missed his old apartment, his old bed and Aunt Rosa's customary goodnight hugs - an unfamiliar bed in a strange apartment just wasn't the same, even if he did get a goodnight kiss from Lisa. However, there was nothing he could do, as apartment, bed and aunt were all gone forever; he'd just have to get used to it, he told himself.

"Love you, Lise," he murmured, snuggling into the cold bed with a sigh and trying to make himself warm and comfortable.

On the other side of the corridor, Lisa lay awake in her new bed and stared up at the ceiling. This bed was too cold, too big and empty after her cosy little bed back home. Her new pyjamas, bought for her by Amber and the others, were comfortable enough but felt strange; she was used to wearing her mother's old nightgown to bed and hadn't worn pyjamas since she was ten years old.

And if that wasn't irritating enough to stop her from sleeping, there were so many thoughts running through her head - thoughts of her old home in Raccoon City and of her parents, now dead and gone. At the back of her mind was vague worry about Amber, Renée and Dr Harlech, even though they could probably manage just fine without her or Jack to help them.

Above all, she was thinking about what the future held in store for her and Jack. Would they be happy here in Arklay? What would school be like - would they make friends with the other kids, or would they be unwanted, shunned, dismissed as outsiders? How long would they be staying here? Most of all, were they safe from Umbrella's evil clutches?

_We're as safe as we'll ever be, I guess. They won't want to be drawing attention to themselves, particularly not in this area, so at worst they'll be lying low. Hopefully they've gone forever and won't come back…_

It was with this thought that Lisa drifted off to sleep, her eyes closing and her head sinking back into the pillows.

All over Arklay, lights were going off. Golden glows in the residents' windows flickered and faded, turning off one by one. From above, it was like seeing a whole constellation gradually winking out, star by little yellow star. Before long, the entire town was shrouded in sleep and complete darkness.

Yet not everything in Arklay slept soundly. Unbeknownst to the inhabitants of the town, something was watching from deep within the dark, rustling forest...


	2. Nightmares And Cornflakes

**2: Nightmares and Cornflakes**

She was back…

Back home, safe in her own bed. Everything that she thought she'd seen had been nothing more than a dream. There were no zombies, no viral outbreaks, no sinister conspiracies. Nothing more harmful than the sunlight that was streaming in through the bedroom windows of 2019 Thursfield Park Avenue, Raccoon City - her home.

The smell of waffles and maple syrup was wafting upstairs, and Lisa sniffed the air hungrily. Climbing out of bed to follow the scent, she wandered downstairs in her mother's old nightgown, her bare feet making soft thuds on the stair carpet.

There was her father, alive and well and sitting at the kitchen table, munching happily on toast and marmalade. Her mother, wreathed in smiles, was pouring freshly-squeezed orange juice from a pitcher into her glass.

"Good morning, sweetheart," they both greeted Lisa. "Sleep well?"

"I had nightmares," mumbled Lisa, sitting down and reaching out for waffles and the maple syrup bottle.

"Poor princess," said her mother sympathetically, ruffling her hair. "But never mind. Eat up, Lisa. We've got a big day ahead of us and we're going to be very busy."

"Doing what?" said Lisa, feeling her heart slowly sinking. She'd hoped that perhaps they could have a quiet day at home together, or go on a family outing somewhere; she hardly ever saw her busy parents out of their work clothes.

"Work, of course," laughed her mother. "Same as always. We have to go to work and do what the company tells us. Bioweapons don't make themselves…"

Lisa looked up sharply. The plastic syrup bottle dropped onto her plate with a smack, suddenly unimportant after what she'd just heard.

"What?" she said slowly. "Did I just hear that right? Did you - did you say _bioweapons_?"

Maple syrup pooled onto the plate in a dark, sticky brown puddle.

"That's right, sweetie," said her mother. Now her warm smile was an unpleasant smirk, contorting the familiar face and twisting it into a horrible, contemptuous sneer. "That's our job. We make bioweapons for Umbrella. And we do it all for you, my darling. All for you…"

Her father reached across the table and grasped her forearm - but Lisa saw to her horror that his hand was a cold, dead hand, pale and horribly mutilated, covered with bite marks and gore.

She looked down further; dark liquid was still pouring from the maple syrup bottle, but now it was red, not brown. She fought the urge to retch as congealing blood flooded her plate.

"You know what today is, honey?" he asked her.

Lisa looked up into a bloodless, blood-stained face, with blank eyes and a mouth that was lolling open.

"What?" she said faintly, feeling ice-cold terror grip her by the heart. Surely this couldn't be happening…?

Her mother and father got up and staggered towards her. Their clothes, so pristine a few moments ago, were little more than torn and bloodied rags. She barely recognised them now. Their eyes were blank, their bodies clawed, bitten and encrusted with dried blood. They looked so cold, so pale - so -

Dead.

"Why," said her father, his mouth now little more than a twisted and bloody snarl, "It's Bring Your Daughter To Work Day. You should come with us."

"Yes, come with us," said her mother, laughing - her lower jaw was wobbling, hanging from the rest of her mouth by a few torn strips of sinew. "It'll be fun. Won't you come with us to work, honey?"

"No!" Lisa yelled, scrambling out of her seat and backing towards the door. "No, get away from me! You're not my mom and dad!"

"Don't be silly, Lisa," said her father. "Of course we are. We're your mommy and daddy. You're our little girl. Now come with us to work. Come and join us…"

"No!"

She turned to flee, but the door slammed shut and locked itself with a nasty little click. Tugging desperately at the doorknob, Lisa gave a scream of frustration as the door refused to open. She could sense her dead parents coming closer, arms outstretched towards her.

"Join us, Lisa," they hissed.

"No!" yelled Lisa.

She looked around in panic for another escape route, but her parents were standing in between her and the back door. The kitchen window was open; perhaps if she ran, she could make it…

She darted towards the window, slightly too late. Cold hands grasped her by the arms and shoulders, torn fingernails scratching at her skin. Pinned to the wall, Lisa could only stare helplessly at her parents' faces.

"Mom, Dad, no! Please!" she begged, nearly hysterical with fear. "Please let me go!"

"Join us…"

"No, please! I don't want to - !"

Her mother and father lunged towards her with open mouths. Lisa screamed as she felt their teeth at her throat, biting down on her neck. She could feel blood pouring down her chest and welling up in her throat as the two zombies ripped lumps of flesh out of her, but strangely, there was no pain. The world was fading now, her life slipping away -

xxxxxxxxxx

"No!"

Lisa's eyes shot open and with a gasp, she sat bolt upright in bed. Her hands flew automatically to her neck, but there were no wounds. No blood, even though she'd felt the zombies' teeth on her neck.

Still gasping for breath, she let herself drop back into the pillows. Her racing heart started to slow a little. When she eventually managed to calm herself down and reassure herself that none of it had been real, she sat up again - slowly, this time - and looked around.

It had been raining overnight, and the rain was still coming down as a mild but persistent drizzle. Tiny droplets of water speckled the glass panes as grey daylight filtered in through the windows. Aside from the absence of sunshine, nothing appeared to be amiss.

At first she didn't know where she was; this room was new and strange. The only thing in it that she recognised was the stained and travel-worn backpack which sat on the stool of the dressing-table. It reminded her of where all the stains in the fabric had come from, and what had happened to her…

Now she remembered that her old house and her parents had gone forever, just like Raccoon City itself. This was Arklay, her new home, and this room was her new bedroom. Most importantly, Jack was alive and -

She heard a hacking cough from the kitchen of the apartment and corrected herself. No, Jack wasn't well. Not exactly. Though apparently healthy, and in some ways much better than he'd ever been, he got tired very easily and had been somewhat prone to depression in the past week or so.

Dr Harlech had pointed out that this wasn't surprising, considering that Jack had been infected with a terrible virus. Although the antivirus had done its work beautifully, it had nevertheless left him technically dead for about a minute while it took effect, and dying was probably enough to make anybody depressed. The increases in strength, speed and brainpower were all side-effects of the L-Virus; these were gradually fading, although it was unclear whether Jack would ever entirely return to normal.

He was definitely getting better, though. The cough was almost gone now, and his health was improving slowly. Besides, who cared if he'd been changed a little by a virus intended to create bioweapons from the dead? Even if he never went completely back to normal, he was alive, and that was all that mattered to Lisa.

Lisa looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was still early, but she didn't want to go back to sleep. The nightmare was fading in the light of day, and what had been frightening now seemed faintly ridiculous; nevertheless, she had no desire to risk having another bad dream. She resolved to get up and find something to do.

xxxxxxxxxx

Jack stared at his reflection on the shiny convex surface of his spoon. The distorted image of a sixteen-year-old boy stared back at him with unnaturally large eyes. He noted the dark shadows under the eyes and the unhealthy pallor of the face; the boy whose misshapen face was mirrored in reality looked as exhausted as Jack felt.

He was lucky even to be alive, he knew that. Lisa had stubbornly refused to give up on him even when all hope seemed to be lost, and her love, courage and determination had saved him from certain death. He owed her everything, most of all his life.

On the other hand, he couldn't help wondering if perhaps she should have let him die instead. The little mental and physical boosts that the L-Virus had given him were useful, but they were no compensation for the near-constant exhaustion that it had left him with. Cure or no cure, he would never be the same again.

_No,_ he told himself sharply. _She save you life for a reason. __'__Cause she love you, Jack, you ungrateful son of a bitch. Of course you gonna be tired, you almost die in Raccoon City. An__'__ you be gettin__'__ better anyway - the cough be almost gone now, an__'__ you dunt get tired quite so easy. Dunt you dare complain when you be gettin__'__ stronger every day. Dunt you dare, when she walked through hell for you. Stop bitchin__'__ an__'__ get on with you life__…_

He put the spoon down on the table and sighed.

So here they were, in their new home. He liked it here, but all the same, he felt a little uncomfortable in the apartment, simply because he was so aware that he was a guest in someone else's home. After all, it was difficult to make yourself at home when you knew that nothing there belonged to you, and strongly suspected that damaging something belonging to your hosts might get you into big trouble. In a fancy-looking place like this, it was even worse; you ended up being too scared to even touch anything, in case you broke something expensive.

Jack leaned forward a little to eat and, picking up his spoon again, dipped it into the bowl and brought it back up to his mouth. The taste of milk-soaked, sugar-frosted cereal brought a smile to his face. Whether by accident or by design, Amber had bought his favourite brand of cornflakes when she'd picked out groceries for them, and he silently thanked the cop for her good taste in breakfast cereal.

He had just finished scraping the last spoonful of milk from the bottom of the bowl when Lisa walked in. She was dressed in jeans and a raspberry-red t-shirt, and her wet hair was still dripping down her back. The sight of the girl he loved made his pulse race a little faster, and Jack felt the corners of his mouth turning up automatically.

"Hey, Lise," he said, smiling.

"Morning, Jack," said Lisa, bending to kiss him lightly on the forehead. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, I guess," he replied with a grimace. "I had nightmares 'gain though."

"Me too," Lisa admitted. "What was it this time?"

"Dunt really remember. Zombies, I think. You?"

"My parents ate me alive."

"Oh. That must've been real nasty."

"It was, believe me. I've had enough of nightmares. Same few bad dreams, over and over again. It gets old pretty fast."

"Amen to that. You gonna have breakfast, Lise?"

Lisa shuddered at the mere mention of the word.

"No, absolutely not," she said. "Not after the dream I had. I'll grab something to eat later."

"Whatever you want, _querida_. You ready to go?"

"Almost. I just have to dry my hair and get my coat."

"I no would bother dryin' you hair, Lise. 's rainin' outside. It only gonna get wet 'gain, ain't it?"

"Hmm… true. I'll get my coat, then."

Lisa disappeared briefly, then returned with a black denim jacket and the navy-blue backpack that had accompanied her on her travels through Raccoon City.

"Ready?" she said pleasantly.

"Sure," said Jack, standing up and grabbing his own backpack, the same stained and faded green thing that had survived as many zombies as he had. "Let's go."

xxxxxxxxxx

"Weather _sucks_."

Jack kicked out at a stone on the sidewalk. It skimmed through two puddles before eventually falling into the gutter with a depressing _plop_. Sighing heavily, he started to walk again through the fine mist of rain.

"All of it, or just this weather?" said Lisa, who was walking beside him.

"This weather," said Jack. "But other weather sucks too. Like snow. I hate snow. Too damn cold."

"I like rain, and snow," said Lisa evenly. "Sunshine's my favourite, but I like most kinds of weather. The only thing I don't like is when it's rainy _and_ windy. I've lost an awful lot of umbrellas that way."

Jack stopped walking.

"What?" said Lisa, turning back to look at him. "Was it something I said?"

"No," he said eventually. "Sorry. Just the word "umbrella". Kinda goes through me now when I hear it."

"Sorry, Jack," said Lisa meekly. "I wasn't thinking."

"Nah, 's okay," said Jack, shrugging off the apology. "An umbrella be an umbrella. 's the kind of Umbrella that can turn people into zombies that bothers me. Dunt worry 'bout it."

"Damn Umbrella," said Lisa suddenly. "I hate them. We should both be at home with our families, being _normal_ - but no, they had to go and ruin our whole lives, and for what? Nothing! That's what! Our town's gone forever, and all because those arrogant bastards wanted to play God and make some money while they were at it!"

There was a long silence, broken only by the sound of the rain.

"Y'know, I dunt think I ever hear you swear b'fore," said Jack at last, taking Lisa's hand in his as they started to walk again.

"You haven't?" said Lisa.

"Nope," said Jack, shaking his head.

"You must have done. I used to swear all the time at home," said Lisa.

"No 'round me, you dint," said Jack.

"Remind me to enlighten you sometime," said Lisa. "Maybe I can teach you some interesting new words."

"I know plenty of 'em already," said Jack.

"Yes, you probably do, but I bet there are plenty you haven't heard yet," said Lisa.

"Maybe," said Jack. "An' I can teach you to curse _en Español_ too."

"_Hijo de puta,_" said Lisa proudly.

Jack laughed.

"Cute," he said. "Real cute. Where'd you get that from?"

"You."

"My bad. I prob'ly no should teach you bad words. Uptown girls ain't meant to talk like that."

"They probably aren't, but they do anyway," said Lisa. "You should have heard Julie in school. She used to swear all the time. Every time she dropped something, she'd curse the air blue."

"Yeah, I remember," said Jack. "She used to swear at me a lot too. She an' her _amigas_ call me all kind of names whenever they thought you no could hear 'em talk. I ain't gonna repeat 'em. Some of 'em be real bad."

"I can't believe I ever hooked up with Julie Wilberforce and the other girls after Charlotte disappeared," Lisa sighed. "I didn't even like them that much. And if I'd known how they treated people, I mean _really_ known, I would have told them where to go right away."

"Long as you dunt make the same mistake 'gain, Lise," said Jack. "From now on we gotta stick together. You think people gonna be the same in this school?"

"I hope not," said Lisa. "But I think this would be a good time to go over some ground rules."

They were in the middle of Arklay now, and residences had given way to the town's little shopping district. As they passed a music store, Jack stared longingly at the heavy metal posters in the window, remembering the ones that he'd put up on his bedroom walls in Aunt Rosa's apartment. A meaningful cough from Lisa interrupted his thoughts, and he returned his attention to her.

"Like what?" he said.

"Well, rule number one," said Lisa. "Personal stuff stays personal. We're together, and that's fine. No need to hide that. But leave out the details, right?"

"Sure," Jack agreed. "'Specially if these kids gonna be like the ones in Raccoon City High. They sure did love to gossip, dint they?"

"That's why I'm saying this," said Lisa. "The last thing I want is to have everyone in the class gossiping about us. I remember when Charlotte got a boyfriend last year and the other girls constantly asked her about him - they wanted to know every tiny detail about their relationship. In the end she dumped him just to make them stop interrogating her."

"Man, that be real sad," said Jack. "I dunt want that to happen to us."

"It won't," said Lisa firmly. "Because we're not going to let it. We won't mention a single thing that might be talked about behind our backs."

"I ain't got a problem with that," said Jack. "I dunt like bein' gossiped 'bout. No way I gonna tell 'em anythin' personal."

"Good. Rule number two – we don't let anyone push us around just because we're new. Hey, we've been up against zombies and dogs and giant spiders, we defeated a monster, and we escaped from Raccoon City with our lives. That means we don't have to take any nonsense from anyone."  
"Yeah, an' rule number three - we gonna stick together," supplied Jack. "We stick up for each other too. You get stuck in a crowd of girls like the ones from Raccoon High, I rescue you. If I get beat up 'cause I be with Lise Hartley, the prettiest girl in the world, and some other guy dunt like it, you rescue me."

"If anyone so much as laid a finger on you, I'd land a few on them myself," said Lisa fiercely. "And rule number four – whatever happens, I love you. Remember that."

"Course I gonna remember. It ain't like I can forget," said Jack.

"That's good."

The conversation dwindled into nothing as they walked along, listening to the hissing sound of the rain. The weather was definitely getting worse now; the fine drizzle had turned into a downpour, and the raindrops were hitting the ground so hard that they bounced.

"This weather _really_ sucks," said Jack, picking fretfully at his rain-soaked t-shirt and the shirt he was wearing over it. "I dint even bring a coat. 'm gonna get soaked by the time we get to school."

"I have an idea," said Lisa, taking off her backpack and holding it above her head. "I used to do this whenever I got caught in the rain on my way home from school. It'll keep some of the rain off."

"Good idea, Lise," said Jack, impressed by this flash of ingenuity.

He took off his backpack and held it over his head as they walked through the rain.

"We prob'ly look ridiculous," he said after some time.

"Yeah," admitted Lisa. "But at least we're ridiculous and dry."

"I ain't even dry. Hope this backpack be waterproof…"

"Oh dear. Now that you mention it, I don't think mine's all that waterproof," said Lisa, hurriedly taking the backpack off her head and balancing it on her feet to keep it off the wet sidewalk. She took off her jacket, put her backpack back on, and held the jacket above her head instead.

"This isn't waterproof either, but at least it won't make my books and things all wet," she told Jack. "How much further till we get to school?"

"No much further," said Jack. "We gonna be there soon."

A sudden gust of wind caught Lisa's jacket, blowing it out of her hands and straight into a nearby puddle.

"Hell!" Lisa exclaimed, snatching up the jacket. To her deep annoyance, the black denim was soaked right through, rendering the jacket useless for the time being. Putting it back on was pointless; instead she draped it over her arm and carried on walking.

"You wanna wear my shirt till we get there, Lise?" Jack offered. "Dunt want you to get cold."

"No, it's all right. I'll manage until we get to school," said Lisa.

A car drove past, planing through the deep puddles at the side of the road and sending up a thick spray of rainwater. Lisa shrieked, and looked down at her jeans. They were drenched right up to the knees.

"Oh, man," said Jack, dismayed. "Look at you…"

"I think you're right, Jack," said Lisa, suppressing the desire to run screaming through the streets in pursuit of the car that soaked her, and contenting herself with an exasperated sigh.

"What'm I right about?" said Jack, as they walked on through the rain-sodden streets, with their hair plastered to their heads by the rain and their clothes becoming progressively wetter.

"Weather _sucks_."

xxxxxxxxxx

Ellie sat in the back seat of her father's car, watching the streets of Arklay stream past the window as she tried to stay awake; the warm air in the car was making her feel sleepy again.

Despite the impression that she had given to her long-suffering neighbours, Ellie wasn't an early riser and was convinced that the day _really_ started at twelve-thirty, when she could wake up without having to be poked, prodded, yelled at, or dragged out of bed by her feet. She'd deliberately placed her CD player within easy reach of the bed, so that she could switch on some loud punk music to stop herself from going back to sleep after the alarm clock went off, and it seemed to be helping, but it was far from a perfect solution.

She definitely wasn't a mornings person. Especially not a rainy mornings person. She was a sun-loving girl by nature and felt that she shouldn't have been brought to Arklay, where it always seemed to be raining or snowing.

It was raining _really _hard today - just like last night, and the day before that, and probably tomorrow too. It was a dismal prospect for anyone who had to walk to school, and under normal circumstances Ellie would have been walking. She considered herself lucky not to be doing so today, even if her father was listening to something dreary on the radio.

"What _is _this?" she said after a while.

"Real music," her father replied. "Gold FM."

"Can't you put Rock 303 on instead?" implored Ellie.

"You mean the station that makes you deaf?" said her father, grinning.

"It's better than the station for those _near_ death," said Ellie, rolling her eyes. "Please, Dad, switch stations. Please? I'll only be in the car for a few more minutes, then you can listen to Old FM again."

Ellie's father sighed, but changed the radio station. He knew when to give in, which was more than his daughter did. The music was cut off mid-song with a crackle of static, and rock music began blaring from the speakers. He winced slightly at this affront to his musical taste, but wisely decided to say nothing; Monday morning was no time to pick an argument with a tired and grumpy teenager.

In the back of the car, Ellie was staring aimlessly out of the window. The rainwashed scenery was passing by in a whirl of tired colours, with shops, trees, sidewalks and fire hydrants melting seamlessly into one big suburban backdrop. A couple of people flew past, their faces a blur, indistinguishable from each other in waterproof coats and umbrellas… except for a dark-haired girl and a blond boy walking along hand in hand, seemingly oblivious to the rain.

In a flash, they were gone. Ellie wondered who they were, and why they'd caught her attention. Whoever they were, they looked about her age, and they both had backpacks.

_Maybe I'll see them in school today. They must be new. Too much to hope for that they'll be nice, though. They'll probably end up in the usual high school cliques and become yet another pair of walking clichés. One brainless jock and one spoilt bitch, coming right up…_

Ellie sighed mournfully. No matter what happened, nothing ever seemed to change here; people came and went, but they barely caused a ripple in the little stagnant pool that was daily life in Arklay. Every now and then she thought that things would surely change here, but who was she trying to kid? Things stayed exactly the same, and always would.

xxxxxxxxxx

Arklay High School turned out to be an imposing Victorian building sitting in the middle of an asphalt yard, surrounded on all sides by spiked iron railings and a few bare trees. Like most of the buildings in town, it had been painted a brilliant white, but this was slowly fading to grey. The tall, high windows were dark and the yard was deserted; it didn't look encouraging.

Lisa noticed the uncertainty in Jack's stance and the wary, slightly apprehensive look on his face.

"It's all right," she said, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering around madly in her own stomach. "Everything's going to be fine, Jack. Don't worry. I bet you'll fit right in."

"Doubt it," said Jack, nervously picking some wet strands of hair out of his face and sweeping them back. "Remember Raccoon High? The kids there make my life a livin' hell. You really think things gonna be any diff'rent here? C'mon, Lise, look at me. I look like trash an' I talk weird. I can write better English than I used to, 'cause of you helpin' me, but 's gonna take a long time for me to talk right, just like you do. They gonna make my life hell here too, I know it."

Lisa felt a stab of pity. Jack was right; it would be a lot easier for her to settle in here than it would for him. She liked the way he dressed and found what she'd come to think of as "Jack-speak" hopelessly endearing, but others would probably take it as a chance to single him out for criticism - and worse.

"Don't worry, Jack," she said, and squeezed his hand. "You'll be okay. I'll look after you."

"You always do, Lise," said Jack, smiling bravely. "Dunt know what I would do without you."

"Same here," said Lisa. "Well, are you ready to go in?"

Jack looked at Lisa, then at the forbidding front doors of the school building. He took a deep breath, and nodded.

"Yeah. 'm ready."

"All right then. Here goes…"

They walked in through the school gates and crossed the empty yard. Fallen leaves were blowing across the wet tarmac, like tumbleweeds across a vast and barren plain, which only added to the feeling of emptiness and desolation.

Walking quickly up the short flight of steps to the doors, Jack opened one of the green-painted doors. He was trembling, Lisa noticed, and he looked about ready to turn and run.

"It's all _right_, Jack," she told him again. "Really. You'll be fine."

Jack said nothing, but seemed to settle down slightly. He opened the door wider, waiting for Lisa to go in first, then followed her reluctantly inside. Behind him, the door slammed shut on their old life with the finality of a coffin door. The first day at school had always represented a fresh start, but now it represented something more - the beginning of their new life, and the end of their nightmare.

At least, that was the idea…


	3. Taking Sides

**3: Taking Sides**

Ellie made her way easily through the crowds that thronged the narrow hallway. The hall smelled of floor polish and strong disinfectant, a disagreeable odour which made her eyes water at the best of times. Today it was even worse; the air was warm and heavy with moisture, damp clothes and sweat. It was like being stuck in a tropical rainforest, if there was a tropical rainforest somewhere on earth that smelled of disinfectant and old socks.

_Yuck, it smells disgusting in here. Don't these dirty apes I have to go to school with ever wash? Oh, for adequate ventilation, or at least some air freshener…_

Nudging aside a fellow student as politely as possible, Ellie went to her locker and opened the door with three attempts at the combination, a glare at the temperamental lock and, finally, a well-aimed kick. The battered green metal door swung open with a creak.

"About time too, you swine," she told the locker sternly, and peered into its shadowy recesses.

To everyone else, the inside of the locker was a mess. As well as the usual paraphernalia of old sweet wrappers, a rumpled gym kit, and several pens that didn't work any more, there were untidy heaps of old test papers, full notebooks, empty folders and long-forgotten assignments, all of them dog-eared and dusty. Some of the tightly compacted stacks of paperwork were rumoured to be evolving life.

So far, so identical to everyone else, but Ellie's own particular locker also contained a Walkman and a couple of compilation tapes, some punk CDs scattered across the top shelf, a few worn-out looking band posters, a not-very-good sketch of Sid Vicious that she'd drawn during a Physics class, and some photos of her family taped to the inside of the door.

And, of course, there was the graffiti scratched into the metalwork. To be fair, most of it wasn't hers and related to no-longer-current events and the personal habits of students long since departed, which she'd covered up with her posters. The exceptions were "Ban Politics", "Stop reading this slogan, you're late for class", and "A. Wesker is a total psychopath", which she'd liked enough to leave open to view.

She had, however, carefully inscribed some song lyrics on the edge of the shelf with her Swiss Army knife, ensuring that every time she opened her locker, she was greeted with the words:

"_Punk means thinking for yourself"_

_Too right_, she said to herself as she gathered up the books she needed for the day. _There's no way in hell I'd ever want to think like the kids up here, that's for sure._

There was a hissing sound beside her. Ellie sniffed the air experimentally, then choked as the smell of harsh chemicals infiltrated her airspace. She pushed her locker door shut and glared at the stocky boy next to her, who was liberally spraying himself with a can of deodorant.

"Just so you know, that isn't an acceptable substitute for washing," she informed him. "But if you really feel the need to forgo soap and spray yourself to death with chemicals instead, then please do it elsewhere in future. This is _my _personal space and I'm asking you nicely to leave the oxygen alone. When the day comes that my body miraculously evolves and I can breathe cheap deodorant, I'll be sure to let you know. Until then, kindly refrain from poisoning me before class with the hygienic equivalent of napalm. It's not very considerate."

The boy's huge brow wrinkled.

"What?"

Ellie sighed theatrically.

"If you spray your revolting deodorant within ten feet of me again, I'll make you eat the can," she told him. "Now piss off."

"Love to see you try," grunted the boy, and it was then that the small part of Ellie's consciousness that was labelled "Survival Instinct" thought, _Oh good Lord, I just threatened to feed a can of deodorant to someone almost a full foot taller than me! What am I doing?_

However, the much larger part marked "Bravado" kicked in once again, with the smaller part marked "Suicidally Foolish" hovering nearby, ready to take over if necessary.

"Would you really?" said Ellie sweetly. "Well, I could always find a phone book to stand on. All you have to do is stand still with your mouth hanging open, same as usual. You needn't let your knuckles drag along the floor, though, unless you think it helps."

The boy merely smirked.

"Whatever, freak," he said, grinning as he turned away.

"Yeah, laugh it off, you knuckle-dragging Neanderthal," Ellie muttered to herself as she watched him walk away. "I hope you choke on your own fumes…"

As she tried ineffectually to cram yet another textbook into her bulging backpack, hoping that hope would triumph over experience, she heard voices behind her. This was nothing new, because the corridor was as noisy as it was crowded, but these two voices seemed to carry further than everybody else's:

"Man, I hate startin' a new school. I be so nervous…"

"Don't worry, I'm scared too…"

Ellie gave up on the book for now and turned around to look. She was only a little surprised to see that the speakers were the girl and boy that she'd seen earlier. They were both drenched from head to toe; their wet hair and clothes were plastered to their skin, and they were leaving little trails of water behind them as they walked.

There were plenty of "pretty" girls in Arklay High, but this girl wasn't one of them. The beauty of the other tenth-grade girls was mostly down to the make-up that they carefully applied every day to attract male students, but this one was different. She was much shorter than Ellie - barely over five feet tall - and very petite, with wide brown eyes and a sweet, appealing face that didn't need the help of cosmetics to stand out in a crowd. She was also a definite brunette, which set her apart from the others once again. Bad dye-jobs abounded here, and it was a relief to see someone else with their own hair colour. Her wet hair reached right down her back and would probably be beautiful when it was dry again.

The girl's companion was taller than her, about average build, with blue eyes and tousled blond hair; this was too long at the front, but he wore it well, Ellie thought. She liked his clothes, too - blue jeans, a plain-colour t-shirt, and a lumberjack shirt that would look great once it had faded a bit.

Ellie watched as the boy murmured something into the girl's ear, and saw the girl smile and kiss him on the cheek. She'd never thought of herself as the sentimental type, but it was a strangely heartwarming gesture. The two of them were very clearly in love.

_I don't blame her for liking him. He's not a bad-looking guy._ _Kind of a shame, really. Once Karen spots him, neither of them'll have a hope in hell. That nasty little cow steals any boyfriend she can get her hands on, and the new girl'll either get absorbed straight into the Tenth-Grade Gossip Collective or bullied until she conforms._

Reflecting on the unfairness of this situation, Ellie continued trying to shove the book into her backpack. Moments later, however, she was forced to abandon the exercise and accept that no matter how hard she tried, the book simply wouldn't fit - she'd have to carry it instead.

Tucking the book under her arm and zipping her backpack shut, she slammed the locker door and headed for class. However, she stopped dead as she saw a superficially pretty and expensively-dressed blonde girl heading towards the new boy and girl, her smile already transforming itself from smug and self-satisfied to bright and happy.

Ellie didn't usually get involved in what she called "politics" - the day-to-day lives and love affairs of her fellow tenth-graders - but there was no way that she could leave those two in Karen Hall's evil clutches. She had to do something…

xxxxxxxxxx

"Hi there," said the blonde girl brightly.

A little too brightly, Lisa thought, for someone who'd probably only been awake for an hour or two. The girl reminded her of Julie, in more ways than one; it was the perkiness, the perfect Barbie-doll make-up and fixed, false smile, and the "so good to see you" attitude that emanated from her like mist and was probably just as substantial.

"_Uh-oh. Desastre es aquì,"_ murmured Jack.

Here comes trouble, thought Lisa. Yes, indeed. Just the kind of trouble they'd been hoping to avoid after Raccoon City. She no longer trusted girls like this further than she could spit, and after being on the receiving end of far too much verbal abuse, neither did Jack. He was already looking decidedly uncomfortable in the girl's presence.

"So what's your name?" said the girl.

"Lisa," Lisa answered simply; there was very little harm in that, at least.

"Hm," said the girl, whose smile remained bright but whose eyes were now dull and disinterested. She clearly didn't care who Lisa was. Lisa reminded herself that she shouldn't feel bad about this, because the girl wasn't very nice anyway, but nevertheless, it still hurt to know that she was in the presence of someone who wouldn't care if she dropped dead on the floor.

"And who is _this_?" the girl purred, turning to Jack and letting her gaze linger on him for slightly too long.

Jack gulped, and moved a little closer to Lisa. The girl didn't seem to notice this, but Lisa had seen his expression right away and knew exactly what he was thinking.

_Yep, desastre es definitely aquì…_

"This is Jack," said Lisa. "My boyfriend," she added pointedly, with the subtle implication that the girl should take the hint and leave them alone. Too late, she remembered that subtle hints didn't work on girls like this one.

"Nice to meet you," said the girl, completely ignoring the last comment, and Lisa sighed inwardly. Just for once, it would have been nice to be wrong. It seemed as though she was about to meet Julie Mk. 2 and be her new best friend, unwilling slave and gossip fodder, whether she liked it or not.

"I'm Karen Hall," continued the girl. "But you don't need to call me that, because my friends all call me Karri."

"Hello, _Karen,_" said an unexpected voice behind Lisa.

Karen turned. Her smile flickered out for just a moment, before returning to its full intensity.

"Ah, Eleanor," she said pleasantly, but there was an edge in her voice this time. "Have a good weekend?"

Jack and Lisa turned and saw a very tall, skinny girl with frizzy hair scraped back into a disorderly ponytail. She was wearing a Dead Kennedys t-shirt, a pair of cargo pants that appeared to have been involved in some kind of industrial accident, and some ancient sneakers held together entirely by glue and optimism. Draped over her shoulder was an old Army jacket, and on her back was a khaki backpack festooned with badges and felt-pen graffiti. Behind a pair of glasses, sparkling blue eyes were staring coldly out at Karen.

"Yes," said the girl called Eleanor abruptly. "You?"

"As a matter of fact, I did. Daddy took me and the girls to the movies and then we went bowling afterwards," said Karen, subtly shifting position into a fighting stance. She appeared to be squaring up for a fight, the kind fought entirely with sharp looks and oh-so-innocent remarks, each word thrown like a poison dart.

"That's nice," said Eleanor briskly, placing a hand on Jack and Lisa's shoulders. "Anyway, I see you've run into some old friends of mine, Karen. Do you mind if I talk to them for a minute? We have a lot to catch up on…"

The look on Karen's face made it quite plain that she did mind, but the other girl ignored her, and dragged the surprised Jack and Lisa away before Karen could argue.

"Thanks," said Lisa, as soon as the three of them were out of earshot. "Uh, Eleanor, right?"

"No. I'm only Eleanor to people who hate my guts. And in case you're wondering, yes, all the popular girls _do _call me Eleanor," said the girl, grinning. "But I don't really mind, because I hate them too. Karen most of all. I noticed you two didn't look too pleased to see her. Do you know her?"

"No, but I've known plenty of people like her," said Lisa right away. "And I only talked to her for a few seconds, but that was long enough for me to realise that I hate her."

"Well, I'm glad I've found someone else in the tenth-grade with a brain," said the girl, grinning again.

"I dunt like her either," put in Jack.

"Two people? Hey, this day keeps getting better and better," laughed the girl. "Nice. Anyway, I'm Eleanor Johnson. Please call me Ellie. And before you say anything, yes, I'm from England. North London, to be more precise. Yes, you can tell from the accent. No, we don't say "bloody hell" every other sentence, so don't ask me to do it as though it's some kind of British party trick. And I don't do the Cockney rhyming thing either, so don't ask."

"Um - okay," said Lisa, slightly stunned. "I wasn't going to say anything anyway."

"That's all right," said Ellie, unfazed. "Just wanted to make sure that we understand each other. So, are you going to introduce yourselves or am I going to have to refer to you both as "Oi, you" all year?"

"We dint wanna interrupt," said Jack meekly.

Ellie smacked herself in the forehead.

"Sorry," she said apologetically. "I talk far too much. Feel free to tell me to shut up if you get sick of my babbling."

Jack and Lisa thought it best not to say anything at this point.

"A tactful silence?" said Ellie, who looked genuinely surprised by this reaction. "Gosh. It's been a while since I've heard one of those. Nobody really bothers with tact around here. I must say, you two are a breath of fresh air, although I still don't know who you are."

"I'm Lisa Hartley," Lisa told her. "And this is my boyfriend, Jack Carpenter. We just moved here."

"Nice to meet you, Lisa, Jack," said Ellie, with enthusiasm. "It'll be nice to have some sane people round here. I'm so fed up of all these stupid blonde airheads who pretend to be friends but secretly hate each other, and the guys doing nothing but talk about cars and football, or which one of the tenth-grade Barbie dolls they're sleeping with at the moment."

"Sleeping with?" said Lisa, taken aback. This was definitely not Raccoon City High. Julie's brief encounter with Justin Thomas had been the talk of the tenth grade for weeks.

"God knows there's nothing else to do up here," said Ellie, with a roll of her eyes. "This is Arklay, the most boring place on Earth. But since I'm not socially acceptable enough to be considered girlfriend material, I don't indulge. As for you two, well, I won't speculate. That's your business, not mine."

"Nah, I be happy with Lise," said Jack. "I dunt wanna go lookin' for some stupid Calvin Klone like that Karen _chica_."

Ellie burst out laughing.

"Calvin Klone?" she said. "Now that's funny. I'll have to remember that one. I think I'll tell Shazza, actually, I bet she'll laugh her arse off when she hears that."

"Who's Shazza?" said Lisa, already bewildered by references to people as yet unknown.

"I'll introduce you to her later," said Ellie. "But we'd better get to class now, or we'll be late. Come on, the tenth-grade room's this way."

A grateful Jack and an equally grateful Lisa allowed themselves to be led down the corridor by their new friend, who was still chattering away happily to them in her cut-glass English accent. Lisa glanced back over her shoulder and saw Karen standing in the middle of the hallway; her pretty face was set in a look of absolute loathing.

It seemed as though their new best friend had provided them with a new worst enemy, too…

xxxxxxxxxx

The classroom was just like every other classroom that Lisa had seen, except for the huge windows on one side of the room. Rain ran down the glass in torrents; to the teenage students seated at the desks, it was like sitting underneath a waterfall.

The room was abuzz with conversation, including some speculation as to the teacher's current whereabouts. A few rows ahead, Karen and some near-identical blonde girls were chatting amongst themselves; occasionally they glanced over at Lisa and Jack and giggled.

Meanwhile, Ellie was pointing out each of her classmates in turn and telling her two new friends all about them.

"That's Connor Goldberg," she murmured, nodding towards a blond-haired boy with casual clothes and an open, friendly face. "Nice kid, bit of a sheep. He tries too hard to be like everyone else, when he should be concentrating on developing a personality of his own. We get on all right, though. He's one of the few people in the class who isn't ashamed to be seen with me."

She shifted her focus towards a different part of the room and pointed to a mean-looking boy with dark hair, who was a veritable pincushion of piercings. He was also dressed entirely in black and adorned with more spiked collars and chains than a pack of guard dogs.

"That's Marshall Faulks, everybody's favourite death-metal fan. Don't talk to him on days with a Y in them. He hates people and won't appreciate any attempts to start a conversation. Best to just leave him to his own devices."

"Who's that?" said Lisa, looking across the room at an innocuous-looking boy with gelled brown hair and braces on his teeth.

"Adrian Martello. Baseball freak and something of an entrepreneur - he almost got arrested once for hacking into the school computers and taking detentions off people's permanent records for twenty bucks a time. Enterprising, though, I'll give him that. Said to have the IQ of a genius, although he probably got that in exchange for a couple of used car stereos and his own grandmother."

Jack nodded; he recognised the type. There had been plenty of people like that in downtown Raccoon City, and he'd been friends with most of them. Ritchie, for instance, had been an expert salesman, buying soda cans in bulk at the local dime store and then selling them on at a premium to smaller and more gullible downtown kids.

"And then in the Red corner, we have Will Pitman, our resident socialist," said Ellie, nodding towards a gloomy-looking boy in nondescript jeans and a black turtleneck sweater. "He's got posters of Lenin and Che Guevara in his locker and a cat called Chairman Meow, and I think he's the guy who keeps calling the local radio station and requesting "The Red Flag". He thinks he's better than everyone else because he doesn't share our petty bourgeois ideals, even though he's actually about as subversive and revolutionary as dental floss, and he thinks I'm a Communist too because I wore a t-shirt with the anarchy sign on it on my first day... I swear, if he hands me one more pamphlet on socialism, I'm going to remind him what happened to Trotsky when he pissed people off, see if he _still _thinks Communism is really cool and avant-garde."

"How about those two girls over there?" said Lisa, tactfully changing the subject. "I notice they're not with the popular girls. They wear all the designer gear, though. What are they like?"

Ellie groaned when she saw who Lisa was pointing to.

"Oh, you do _not_ want to get involved with them. Suzanne and Valerie Bascaulet. They might look nice but they're trouble. They're only generous with their money because they're raking it in, and they expect favours back in return. They deal to anyone who looks over sixteen, too, the scumbags."

Lisa looked blank.

"Deal? What do you mean?"

Jack shook his head. Of course, a nice, well-brought-up uptown girl like her would have no idea, would she? Lisa was a sweet girl, and very bright, but in some respects she was incredibly naïve.

"Drugs, Lise," he explained patiently. "They deal drugs. C'mon, I know you must know 'bout this stuff. Your old uptown buddy Justin Thomas used to be high all the time. Total pothead. What, you dint think he smoke just cigarettes, did you?"

"He didn't?" said Lisa, shocked.

"Nope. Marijuana all the way. Total pothead, like I tell you. Dunt know why anybody would wanna do that shit, it only screw you up. Uptown boy or no, he prob'ly woulda ended up on the streets an' on somethin' harder if he dint - "

Jack stopped mid-sentence as Lisa shook her head frantically.

"Don't mention zombies," she mouthed. "Not a word!"

"Yeees," said Ellie slowly. "Anyway, stay away from Suzanne and Valerie. The only reason they're giggly is because they're stoned most of the time. The rest of the time they're a pair of vicious thugs and they'll knife you if you get on their bad side. Do _not_ mess with them. Don't even talk to them, and don't accept anything off them unless you want to end up with a lifetime of obligation or a week in the hospital. Got that?"

Lisa and Jack both nodded, staring at the giggling dark-haired twins in hip-hop gear and wondering if there was one single friendly person in the entire school, their new friend aside. All of their new classmates seemed to be unfriendly at best, and at worst violent, unstable and criminally insane.

"Are there any _normal_ people here?" said Lisa cautiously.

"Nope," said Ellie simply. "With the possible exception of Connor, we're all a bunch of misfits, oddballs and the scum of the earth. Welcome to Arklay, kids. You'd better get used to it, because you're stuck here. I pity your poor parents for coming to live here. They're going to regret it - sorry, did I say something wrong?"

"Our parents are dead," said Lisa quietly.

"Oh," said Ellie, feeling herself blush for the first time in months. "Oh, I'm really sorry. I didn't know. So who looks after you? Do you have relatives or what?"

"Nope," said Jack. "We got nobody. Couple of friends workin' in Europe, though. One of 'em let us stay in her apartment till she get back. We prob'ly ain't gonna be here for more'n a few weeks, maybe a coupla months."

Ellie's face fell.

"Oh. That's a real shame. I was hoping I could actually have some friends in this hellhole."

"We might not be here for long, but that doesn't have to stop us from being friends," said Lisa. "We'd love to have you as a friend. You're probably the only one we're going to have here. And you'll still be our friend even when we leave, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," said Ellie, brightening again. "We can send each other letters and e-mails and stuff, can't we?"

"Sure can," said Jack. "So, you gonna tell us the Calvin Klones' real names so we know who we gotta avoid?"

"Good point. Forewarned is forearmed," said Ellie, grinning. "Okay - Hazel Jefferson, Beverley Carlisle and Leticia Greenmeadows. Karen Hall's cronies. I like to think of them as the Four Horsewomen of the High School Apocalypse."

She spread her arms wide.

"Yea, verily," she said dramatically, "their coming signalleth Gossip, Vicious Rumours, Backbiting and Maliciousness Of All Kinds. I suggest that you develop _very _thick skins and a nice repetoire of comebacks before you even think about dealing with them on a day-to-day basis. Trust me, you'll need it."

"Is that everyone, then?" said Lisa, looking around. "It's not a very big class..."

"It's not a very big town," said Ellie, with a wry smile. "Not everybody's here though. Shazza isn't in today, neither are some of the other girls, and the jerks - I mean _jocks_ - aren't here yet. They're always late."

"Oh, man," said Jack, and suddenly he looked scared. "You got jocks here too? The bad kind?"

"Yep," said Ellie grimly. "The bad kind. They're like cockroaches in all respects except two. Firstly, cockroaches don't play football. Secondly, you're allowed to exterminate cockroaches. I wouldn't mind them if they were just regular jocks, but these three… well, put it like this, you'd be better off hanging around with the Bascaulet twins. Less likely to get into trouble."

"An' that be sayin' somethin'," said Jack, who was really starting to look worried. Lisa stretched out an arm and touched him on the shoulder.

"Jack, don't worry. We'll look after you," she promised. "Right, Ellie?"

"Right," said Ellie, grinning. "One of them tried to feel me up on my first day and I kicked him in the bollocks. They haven't bothered me since. There's the occasional comment that they think is _so_ funny, but other than that, they don't give me any grief."

"I can imagine," said Lisa, trying not to laugh at the thought of a jock being felled by a kick from a belligerent Ellie.

"Hell, you really do stuff like that?" said Jack, at once pleased and scared that he was in the company of a girl who could take on a jock and not get beaten up for her pains.

"Oh, yes. Not on a regular basis, mind you, but it's been known to happen," Ellie added, for honesty's sake. "I spent years being picked on in primary school and I have no intention of being humiliated in high school too, especially not by people who have to think hard about which letter comes after "K". I know I must sound obnoxious, dishing the dirt on my classmates like this, but when I'm in the company of people who _don't _want to make my life a misery, I'm actually quite nice. At least, I'd like to think so."

"I think you're nice," said Lisa, smiling. "Cynical, maybe, but I guess it's hard to be sweet and nice when everyone else around you is the exact opposite."

"Absolutely correct, Lisa," said Ellie, with an appraising nod. "I'd envy you both if I could, but the truth is that sweet and naïve doesn't last long up here. Girls either end up like Karen, like the Bascaulets, or like me. Needless to say, most of them end up like Karen. Fitting in may be a good survival trait, but unfortunately it doesn't change anything."

"An' no fittin' in can change stuff?" said Jack.

"I don't know, but I intend to find out," said Ellie, settling back in her chair. "Ah, here comes teacher…"

A flustered young woman in jeans and a fuzzy pink sweater rushed into the room, her arms full of books.

"Good morning, everyone," she said, slightly out of breath, and dumped the books untidily onto her desk. "Sorry to keep you waiting, the copy machine's not working again. Did you all have a nice weekend?"

There was a chorus of loud comments, many of which were unprintable. The teacher smiled helplessly.

"That's good," she said, and sat down, trying to ignore the giggling from the Bascaulet twins. "Well, now that we're all here - "

The door slammed back on its hinges, and the rest of the class looked up as three tall and impressively muscular boys walked in, making their way through the rows of desks with a swagger. One was blond and the other two were dark-haired, but there the differences ended; they were strikingly similar in appearance and build, and identically dressed in jeans and branded sweatshirts.

"Sorry we're late," grunted the largest one.

"That's all right, Jake. If you and the others can take your seats quickly, we can all get started," said the teacher, quavering slightly.

"That's them," hissed Ellie, as the three newcomers sat down. "The blond one's Herb Grover, the dark-haired one who looks like he left his brain behind this morning is Russell Carver, and the big mean-looking one is the Mayor's son, Jake Maddigan. He's the biggest bully in the whole school, but he never gets in trouble for it because he's the Mayor's son and that means he can do what he likes. He hates my guts because he was the one I kicked in the balls on my first day here, but he leaves me alone. Just as well, really, or I probably wouldn't have full use of my limbs."

"He looks pretty scary," Lisa whispered.

"He is," said Ellie. "Avoid him as much as you can. He won't lay a finger on me but he won't hesitate to beat the living snot out of you two if he takes a dislike to you."

"Ellie, stop talking please, we're trying to get started," called the teacher from the front of the class. "All right, class, I'd like to welcome two new students today. They've just moved here from Raccoon City, so please give them a warm welcome and make them feel at home."

As one, the rest of the class turned around to look at them. Jack and Lisa cringed under the weight of their stares, which ranged from curious to indifferent and even hostile. There were one or two whispers from their audience, which, they unhappily noted, included the words "Raccoon City" and "zombies".

"Okay, roll-call," said the teacher, flipping open a large green book and turning over the pages until she reached the one with the right date. "Right - Sharon Baker?"

"Not here," called Ellie right away.

"Oh. Does anybody know where she is?" said the teacher.

There was a general shaking of heads.

"No? I'll mark her absent then. Suzanne and Valerie Bascaulet?"

The twins raised their hands at the same time, and burst into giggles again.

"Beverley Carlisle?"

One of the blonde girls sitting next to Karen raised her hand. At the same time, Lisa glanced over at Jack and saw to her surprise that he was tensing up again, looking anxiously over at the door as if he was seriously considering running out of the room.

"Jack, what's the matter?" she said.

"She gonna call my name next," said Jack, shifting nervously in his seat. "Oh, man… I hate my name. Everybody gonna laugh at me."

"What? Why?" said Lisa, frowning. "I don't understand, what's wrong with Jack Carpenter?"

"No," said Jack, his blue eyes now wide with worry. "I mean my _real _name…"

"What?" said Lisa, completely confused. "What do you mean, your real name?"

"Jack Carpenter ain't my full name," confessed Jack. "My full name's - "

"Joaquìn Alejandro Carpenter y Jemez," announced the teacher.

"Oh, _man_," groaned Jack, slumping forward until his head hit the desk. "I knew it. Amber must've got my full name from the police files or somewhere… why dint she just do like Auntie did an' register me as plain Jack Carpenter?"

"There's nothing wrong with it, Jack," said Lisa gently. "I like it. It's nice."

"I like it too," said Ellie. "I think it's cool."

"No it ain't, I hate it," said Jack bitterly. "Makes me stick out even more. It ain't like I even look Hispanic like my mama, 'cause I take after my dad an' he be American. Wish he never let my mama pick my name… Auntie say he wanted to call me Adam instead. I wish he did."

"Why? I like you the way you are, Jack," said Lisa. "And you don't really look like an Adam. You look like a Jack, or even a Joaquìn for that matter. It suits you."

"Yeah, well, I gonna change it to just plain Jack Carpenter as soon as I can," said Jack shortly. "I be sick of standin' out in the crowd for all the wrong reasons."

"Joaquìn Alejandro Carpenter y Jemez?" the teacher repeated, looking around.

Jack, who looked to Lisa and Ellie as though he fervently wished that he'd never been born, or at least christened, tentatively raised his hand. Heads turned all over the classroom to look at him again, and this time there were a few muffled sniggers.

The teacher merely smiled.

"Hi, Joaquìn. It's nice to have you with us. I'm Mrs Blumenthal and I'll be your teacher this year. You have a lovely name, by the way. Where are you from?"

"'m half-Mexican Spanish, half American," mumbled Jack, blushing hotly. "I be born in San Francisco but I live in Mexico for a while with my aunt. Came back to America a few months ago."

"Well, welcome back," said Mrs Blumenthal, smiling warmly. "I hope you'll like it here in Arklay, but I'm afraid we don't have such good weather up here in the mountains. Okay then, let's move on. Russell Carver?"

"I wish I be _dead_," said Jack miserably, resting his head on the desk again.

"Don't," said Lisa, kissing her fingertips and pressing them to his flushed forehead. "You did fine. You can always ask her after class if she can call you Jack for short. Probably a lot easier on her. She looks like she's worried about pronouncing it the right way."

Jack smiled weakly.

"I guess," he said, raising his head. The blush was fading away now, leaving him with little more than a pink tinge to his cheeks. "Things gonna be okay, right, Lise?"

"Right," said Lisa encouragingly.

"Yeah, don't you worry, Jack," said Ellie, stretching herself out and putting her feet up on her desk with a clunk. "We're both going to look after you. And I don't know about Lisa, but anyone who thinks your name is worthy of ridicule is going to have to answer to _me_."

"_Gracias, amigas_," said Jack. "Every guy oughta have girls like you around."

"Karen Hall?" called Mrs Blumenthal.

Karen raised her arm and waved a French-manicured hand languorously in the air for a moment.

"Good, good… now, who's next? Ah yes. Lisa Hartley?"

Lisa put her hand up right away, and saw the heads turn yet again. Karen was whispering something to one of the other girls - Hazel, or was it Leticia? They all looked the same - and both girls immediately shot a venomous glance at Lisa.

"Why are they looking at me like that?" said Lisa to Ellie, out of the corner of her mouth. "I've barely said a word to them…"

"You have a cute boyfriend," said Ellie matter-of-factly. "That means they're looking for an excuse to hate you. The fact that you're sitting next to a known weirdo like me is proof enough of your social inadequacy. As far as they're concerned, I'm the Antichrist - the sworn enemy of all things blonde and beautiful, rich, brainless, thin and small."

"Us weirdos think you're wonderful, 'cause you kick jocks in the balls," Lisa responded, half-singing it to the tune of the hymn the words had parodied.

Ellie beamed from ear to ear.

"Nice one, Lisa! I should write that down," she said, scrabbling in her pencil case for something to write with. "Yeah! _I'm not blonde or beautiful, rich, brainless, thin or small, but weirdos think I'm wonderful when I kick jocks in the balls. _You know what, that would make a great song lyric. I'll talk to Muggsy and Nine-Iron, see what they think…"

"You write songs?" said Jack eagerly. "That rocks. I know a guy once named Tio, he used to be in a rock band an' he let me listen to stuff he wrote. You got a band, Ellie?"

"As a matter of fact, yeah," said Ellie. "I play lead guitar with Autumn 28. We're writing an album and everything. We haven't really settled on a style yet, but we're kind of a grunge and punk-rock band. We'd do some ska as well but we don't know anyone who plays a brass instrument, so we're kind of screwed in that respect. I don't suppose either of you…?"

"Nope, sorry," said Jack.

"Shame," said Ellie, shrugging. "Oh well. You're welcome to tag along whenever I've got band practice. We like hearing people's opinions, providing they're intelligent opinions and not the jocks and cheerleaders sneering at us for not being their kind of band."

"Sounds cool," ventured Jack. "You think so, Lise?"

"Sounds good to me too," Lisa agreed. "Let us know when you next meet up, okay?"

"Right-o," said Ellie.

The roll-call came to an end, and Mrs Blumenthal smiled again, rather nervously.

"Just a couple absent today - that's good," she said. "Your attendance is getting much better, everybody. Well done. All right, we've got History first this morning. Joaquìn, Lisa, I'll get some spare textbooks for you…"

"No, it's okay, Mrs Blumenthal," said Lisa, raising her hand. "We already have the books we need."

"You do?" said Mrs Blumenthal, brightening. "Oh, that is good. Nice to see that you're so organised. Now everybody, we're looking at the last chapter this week, so if you could turn to page 322..."

Pages rustled across the classroom.

"I hate History," said Ellie sulkily, as Mrs Blumenthal began reading aloud from the textbook. "Reminds me of everyone gloating about how America kicked Britain's arse during that other war we studied not long ago. It's not much fun hearing your classmates being happy because their ancestors killed lots of your ancestors."

"I guess that does kind of suck," said Lisa sympathetically. "Sorry about that."

"Nah, it's all right. You lot helped us in the last war, even if you were a bit late," said Ellie. "But please do me a favour and tell your film industry that you didn't actually win the war for us. Every American-made war film I've ever seen has the Americans as the heroes and the Brits as helpful tea-drinking sidekicks with amusing accents, and that's if we're lucky."

"I'll be sure to tell any Hollywood producer that I happen to meet to get his facts straight," said Lisa solemnly. "Oh, Ellie, I think the teacher's asking you a question."

Ellie's head shot up.

"Sorry, Mrs B? I didn't quite catch that," she said, affecting slight deafness.

Mrs Blumenthal patiently repeated the question, louder this time. Unfortunately for Ellie, it was about the paragraph that she hadn't been paying attention to.

"No idea, Mrs B. Sorry."

"Ellie," said Mrs Blumenthal, with a sigh. "I know you're not from this country and that you profess to show absolutely no interest in the American Civil War, but all the same, please try and keep up, if only for the good of your grades. You're a bright girl and there's no excuse for you to be scoring poorly in tests. If you really want to go home to England that much, then you need to save up money - to get money, you need a job, and to get a job, you need qualifications. And you can only get qualifications if you graduate from high school, so pay attention."

She returned to her reading. Ellie looked down at the book and glared at the picture of Unionist and Confederate soldiers fighting, before picking up her pen and scribbling notes so savagely that the pen went right through the paper.

"She's right, you know," said Lisa after a while.

"I know she is," said Ellie wearily, putting down her pen. "But I don't have to be happy about it. I just want to get this over with and leave this stupid, boring town so I can go home. I belong back in London, not here in a classroom full of self-obsessed cheerleaders and dumb jocks. But I can't go home. I'm _stuck_ here."

"Jack and I are stuck here too, Ellie," pointed out Lisa. "And we're from Raccoon City. You might be unhappy here, but at least you can go home one day. We can't ever go home."

Ellie looked up at Lisa and suddenly the bitterness and frustration drained away. What was she complaining about? Lisa was right; at least she still had a family, and a city to go home to one day. Lisa and Jack's families were dead and their homes were gone forever. Compared with that, her life was a picnic.

"You're right, Lisa. I shouldn't complain," she said, sighing. "I guess it could be a lot worse."

The rest of the class passed without incident. Lisa answered three questions correctly and Ellie made an attempt at putting enthusiasm into her work, but Jack remained silent throughout, refusing to answer questions or take notes.

"Why, Jack?" said Ellie, as they packed up their books at the end of the class.

Jack said nothing; instead he looked imploringly at Lisa. Lisa took this as her cue to answer the question for him.

"Jack's bilingual but for the past ten years or so he only spoke Spanish, because he never needed to speak English in Mexico," she told Ellie. "He's having to relearn it now that he's back in America, and I'm helping him as much as I can, but he's a little self-conscious about his accent. People used to tease him for it in our last school, so he's shy about participating in class. He's getting a lot better though - right, Jack?"

Jack looked up as he put the last of his things in his backpack, and nodded.

"Fair enough," said Ellie reasonably. "People used to give me grief about my accent when I came here too. They said I talked funny, but I just ignored them. My accent is part of who I am, and I'm happy the way I am. I'm not changing myself for anybody, and neither should you."

"You think so?" said Jack.

"Absolutely," said Ellie. "Don't let anyone make you feel ashamed of who you are, Jack. If they can't accept you as you are, then that's their problem. It's not yours. Don't make unnecessary changes in the name of social conformity. It won't make you happy. It never does."

Jack started to smile, for the first time since he entered the building.

"You the new kids?" said someone behind them.

They turned around. Leaning nonchalantly on the desks were the three boys who had arrived late; Jake, Herb and Russell. Jack's smile faded as panic started rising in his chest. Ellie's own smile became a scowl.

"Piss off, Jake, and take the Idiot Brothers with you," she snapped. "These two are with me. Go and torment somebody else."

"Since when did he ask for your opinion?" grunted Herb, and there was a series of unpleasant clicks as he cracked his knuckles. The sound seemed to echo inside the classroom, and it made Jack and Lisa wince.

Ellie, however, was unimpressed.

"I don't care if he asked for it or not, he's getting it anyway," she told him. "Now shove off, the lot of you."

"Now, now, Ellie," said Jake, looking at his watch. "That's no way to talk to your fellow students. You're setting the new kids a bad example. We only wanted to say hi."

"All right, you've said it," said Ellie sharply. "Now go away."

"Fine. We know when we're not wanted. Come on, guys, let's go," said Jake, getting up. His two companions followed suit and stood up. They nodded curtly at Jack and Lisa, and left the room. Only Jake remained behind, lingering in the doorway.

"I almost forgot," he said casually. "Welcome to Arklay, on behalf of my dad the Mayor. Always nice to see new faces. I hope we'll be friends."

"I doubt it," spat Ellie. "They can find better friends than you, Maddigan."

"I hope you're not talking about yourself," said Jake, smirking. "If you're the best friend they can find, then I feel sorry for them. They should have more sense than to hang round with freaks like you."

Jack felt his hackles rise. How dare this guy insult a friend of his? He suddenly hated the boy, his fear all but forgotten in the wake of the insult. All he could see was the knowing smirk on Jake's face, Lisa's appalled expression, and the reddening face of Ellie, no longer an indomitable spirit but a shy and awkward teenage girl. For all her brave words, it seemed that Ellie wasn't as invulnerable as she made out, and this made her look of deep hurt all the more upsetting.

"I'm not a freak," said Ellie quietly, her words suddenly loud in the hush that followed. "I'm _not_."

"Suit yourself," said Jake, shrugging. "It won't change anything. You don't fit in, Eleanor, and you never will. Freaks like you couldn't fit in if they tried."

"She ain't a freak," Jack burst out, unable to contain himself any longer. "You leave her alone!"

Jake looked suddenly amused.

"You want me to leave her alone? You gonna _make _me, pretty-boy?"

"If I gotta make you, then yeah," said Jack defiantly. "You leave her alone. I dunt care who your dad be, it dunt give you the right to push people around."

"You'd be amazed," said Jake, smiling, "at what it gives me the right to do. You really would, pretty-boy. And you'd better hope you don't find out the hard way what I can get away with."

"Just you try it! We've got a friend in the police force," Lisa warned him.

"What a coincidence," said Jake, and his smile broadened. "So do I."

Lisa's mouth opened in surprise. She looked at Jack and Ellie, not sure if she'd misunderstood the statement or whether she'd understood it all too well.

"You know, sweetheart, you have a real pretty mouth," said Jake, with a slight leer. "Very pretty. But it looks a lot prettier when it's closed. And if you keep it closed, it'll stay pretty too."

"Dunt you threaten my girl," Jack warned him, stepping in front of Lisa.

"Then tell your girl from me that threatening the Mayor's son is a bad move," said Jake. "And make sure she doesn't do it again. Just a little piece of friendly advice, to make her stay in Arklay that much more enjoyable."

With that, he turned and left the room, leaving Lisa and Jack to stare at each other in shock, unable to quite believe what they'd just heard.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Son of a bitch," said Ellie later, taking out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from one of the pockets of her cargo pants. Her hands shook as she took out a cigarette and placed it between her lips. "Bastard, bastard son of a bitch. I hope he catches something from whichever Barbie doll he's shagging at the moment. Calling me a freak! He knows that's the one thing I hate and that's why he does it! The utter _bastard_!"

She lit the cigarette and inhaled the pale grey smoke deeply. Jack and Lisa tried to stand out of her way as tactfully as possible.

"Um… do you mind?" said Lisa politely.

"No," said Ellie right away. "I don't. But if you do, then you only have to say so. And I only do it when I'm nervous or really, really angry, so don't lecture me on how bad smoking is for my health. I know it's bad for me. Attempting to disembowel Jake Maddigan in class with a Swiss Army knife is even more detrimental to my mental and physical well-being, so on the whole, I think I'm better off sticking with my good friends Lambert and Butler. Don't suppose you want one, either of you?"

Jack and Lisa shook their heads.

"Suits me. I'm running low anyway," said Ellie, blowing out a cloud of smoke. "I have to get friends to send me these from home, nobody seems to stock them here. Maybe I'm just looking in the wrong place, but either way, I picked this habit up from the other girls at the comprehensive back home, and I have to indulge it every now and then. I'll give up completely one day. I'm not crazy and have no intention of dying young if I can possibly help it. Getting cancer isn't on my To Do list."

"I don't think it's on anyone's To Do list," pointed out Lisa.

"Hah. Yeah. You two okay? You looked pretty upset back there," said Ellie.

"I hate him, he be a _pinche hijo de puta_," said Jack viciously. "If he lays a finger on Lise, I gonna make him wish his mama never - "

Lisa laid a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Don't let him get to you, Jack," she said. "He's an asshole, yes, but you'll only make him worse if you encourage him. He's also bigger than you and I don't want you to get beaten to a pulp over some stupid argument."

She kissed him on the cheek, and immediately found herself being kissed full on the lips in return.

"O-kay," Ellie commented, taking another long drag on her cigarette. "I won't smoke in front of you guys if you agree not to do the whole kissy-kissy thing in front of me. I'm single and intend to stay that way until I go home, so I'm not jealous, but it's not exactly the nicest thing in the world to watch, know what I'm saying?"

"Sorry," said Lisa, blushing slightly. "No offence meant."

"None taken," said Ellie amiably. "Anyway, we'd better get back to class. The others will only make snide comments if we're late. You know how it is."

Lisa and Jack nodded. They both knew exactly how it was. They wished it was otherwise, but at least it wouldn't be for long, they told themselves. Only a month or two, if that, and then Amber, Renée and Dr H would come back, and they could move on again.


	4. Food For Thought

**4: Food For Thought**

Lisa sat at her desk, watching Mrs Blumenthal draw a mathematical diagram on the chalkboard and paying as much attention as she could to what the teacher was saying. It meant that she didn't have to concentrate on how cold she was, or how her damp clothes were still clinging to her skin.

This wasn't what she'd expected at all. She'd expected a friendly welcome at her new school, or at least _a_ welcome. If nothing else, she'd thought that her new classmates would at least speak to her, or show some interest in her arrival. There was nothing, though; nothing but sullen indifference, or in the case of Jake and Karen, apparent offers of friendship with the unspoken rider: "... but you have to be just like us to be our friend." Only Ellie had attempted to make her and Jack feel welcome here.

There were fewer popular kids here than in Raccoon City High, but this only had the effect of making people like Karen and Jake dominate the class even more. _Big fish in a very little pond_, she thought, _and they're trying to drown the competition_.

These students were nothing like the uptown kids. Jake and his friends were little better than thugs, and as for the blonde girls, they looked much the same as their Raccoon City counterparts, but with a harder, meaner look about them. Julie, Sarah, Leonie, Mary and Luanne had strolled to the top of the social pyramid; these girls looked like they'd clawed their way up there, trampling all the while on anybody who dared to get in their way. She'd thought at the time that Julie had been a bitch, but now she seemed like a pussycat compared to Karen the man-eating tiger.

Julie was dead now, of course. Just like everyone else Lisa had ever known and loved, or loathed for that matter. She and Jack were the only two left from Raccoon High. It seemed to her that they'd come from one social snake-pit, only to be thrown straight into another snake-pit by well-meaning but misguided friends. The only difference was that the pit was deeper and the snakes even more poisonous than before…

She remembered the look that Karen and the other girl had given her. Not distaste, not scorn, not contempt - that had been a look of pure hatred. Why would they hate her? It wasn't her fault that she was new, or that Karen liked her boyfriend, or that Ellie had come to their rescue. She hadn't done anything wrong and they hated her anyway. That hurt, more than an implied beating from Jake Maddigan ever could.

"You all right?" whispered Ellie. "You look cold, Lisa. You want to borrow my jacket for a bit? You and Jack are going to catch your deaths, shivering like that."

"No, it's all right," Lisa whispered back. "It's warm in here, I should dry out pretty soon. My hair's almost dry already."

"If you're sure, then," said Ellie, who looked unconvinced.

She returned to her work and Lisa felt a warm glow of happiness inside her chest. She and Jack had a friend here. Ellie might be the only one they'd have, but she was a friend nonetheless. It was good to know that they weren't entirely alone in not fitting in at Arklay High.

After what seemed like an eternity, the bell shrilled, marking the end of the class and the welcome relief of lunchtime. Mrs Blumenthal called out something that was lost in the sudden noise of scraping chairs, slamming books and loud conversation, and then, before they knew it, Jack and Lisa found themselves alone in the classroom. Ellie was nowhere to be seen. Only the teacher remained, putting some papers away in the filing cabinet near her desk.

"Think I oughta ask her?" whispered Jack.

"Go ahead, Jack. The worst she can say is no," Lisa whispered back.

Jack stepped forward. He cleared his throat, as politely as possible. Mrs Blumenthal almost leapt right off the ground in fright.

"Oh!" she cried, clutching her chest. "Oh, goodness… you startled me."

"Sorry," said Jack. "Dint mean to scare you, Mrs Blumenthal."

"That's all right - uh, Joaquìn - but please don't do that again," Mrs Blumenthal told him gently. "You gave me quite a fright. Still, no harm done. Enjoying your first day?"

"Yeah," Jack lied.

"That's good. So, was there - was there something you wanted to ask me?" said Mrs Blumenthal, smiling in a nervous sort of way.

"Uh, yeah. Mrs Blumenthal, 'bout my name? In my old school they put me down as plain Jack Carpenter, an' I get used to that 'cause nobody ever call me by my full name. That be why I kinda forgot to raise my hand today. I be wonderin' if maybe you could call me Jack instead? That way I dunt forget to answer to it, an' it dunt take so much time to say either. Figure it might be easier that way."

"Well," said Mrs Blumenthal uncertainly, "I'm not allowed to actually change the names on the roster, but Jack Carpenter _is_ easier to pronounce… well, I suppose if it helps you to settle in a little easier, then all right. Jack it is. Was there anything else you wanted, Jack?"

Hugely relieved, Jack shook his head.

"Okay then, off you go," said Mrs Blumenthal.

Lisa had to run quite fast to keep up with Jack as he left the room. The corridor outside, she soon discovered, was packed with people on all sides. Struggling past a throng of giggling ninth-graders heading in the other direction, she quickly lost sight of Jack in the crowd.

"Jack, wait!" she called, pushing aside another pair of younger students as she tried to follow him. "Jack!"

Someone grabbed her by the arm.

"Lisa?"

Lisa jumped, but relaxed again when she realised that she recognised the voice. Stereotypical English accent, for the most part, but with the edges of the cut-glass ground down and worn smooth after a great deal of everyday use. There was even the faintest hint of the American Midwest in it now, although the owner would probably deny this vehemently.

"Ellie," she said, breathing out. "Where'd you go?"

"Sorry about that," said Ellie, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ears. "Not my intention to rush off, but that was an _extremely _long class and I had a lot to drink this morning. When nature calls that urgently, there's only so many times you can ask it to leave a message."

She looked around.

"Where's Jack?" she said, frowning. "I thought he was with you."

"He was, but I lost him somewhere," said Lisa, still looking around to see if she could spot him.

"I wouldn't worry, Lisa. He probably thinks you're still behind him and hasn't noticed you're gone yet. He'll be back in a minute."

"You're probably right," Lisa agreed.

"My little brother's always wandering off like that," said Ellie. "He gets distracted so easily. All you have to do to get him to leave you alone is throw a rolled-up ball of foil past him and go "Hey Luke, look! Something shiny!" and that's it, you won't see him for the rest of the afternoon."

"You have any other brothers and sisters?" said Lisa.

"Uh-huh. I have a big sister and a baby sister too. Mel, my big sister, she's seventeen. Luke's nine, and Ginny's one and a half."

Lisa smiled wistfully. She liked small children, especially babies, and had spent many years wishing for a little sister. Unfortunately her wish had never been granted, and she'd spent countless evenings being bored and lonely inside an empty house while her parents were at work. The long hours without her mother and father would have been much easier to bear if she'd had a sister to keep her company.

_But she would never have made it out of Raccoon City alive. Even if she had, she would have been traumatised for life. Maybe it was for the best. At least that way I had less of a family to lose…_

"Does Jack have any brothers or sisters?" asked Ellie.

"No," said Lisa, as the question brought her straight back down to earth. "His mother died when he was young, and his aunt never had any children either. He's an only child, just like me."

"That's a shame," said Ellie. "My brother and my sisters get on my nerves sometimes, but I'd hate to be without them. Must be awful, being an only child. Mind you, I suppose you get more attention from your mum and dad that way."

_Yeah, right,_ Lisa thought.

"Never mind, at least you have Jack for company," said Ellie.

"I'm lucky," said Lisa honestly. "I really am. I don't know what I'd do without him. He means everything to me."

"I hope you tell him that," said Ellie, smiling.

"Probably not often enough," Lisa admitted.

"Sure you do, Lise," said a voice behind her, and Lisa smiled as she felt Jack's arms fold around her, enveloping her in a hug.

"Hello, stranger," she greeted him. "Where'd you get to?"

"Sorry, Lise, I dint notice you be gone till I turn round to say somethin' to you an' you ain't there," said Jack.

Ellie beamed.

"See?" she said triumphantly. "What did I tell you, Lisa? Anyway, enough hanging around. Let's do lunch."

By the time they'd walked downstairs and into the main hallway, the crowds had thinned out just enough for them to walk three abreast without being pushed or shoved by people heading the other way.

"So where are we going? The cafeteria?" said Lisa, only to be met with a derisive snort.

"Not unless you want to die a slow and lingering death from every type of food poisoning known to science," said Ellie. "Call me picky if you like, but I like to eat food that doesn't have the same nutritional content as my CD collection. If it doesn't give me salmonella either, I consider it a bonus. Besides, the food here tastes like cardboard."

Ellie reached out and opened the main doors, but stopped in the doorway. Jack and Lisa understood why; the rain was coming down in torrents. This in itself was disappointing enough when they'd seen the rain stop halfway through their last class, but the lightning streaking across the dark sky made it plain that going outside was not an option.

"Oh," said Ellie. "Well, I guess cardboard's not _that_ bad… cafeteria, anyone?"

xxxxxxxxxx

Despite the terrible weather which had forced them to remain inside, Lisa was beginning to regret having followed Ellie to the cafeteria.

"What on earth _is_ this?" she said, looking down at her lunch tray.

"Chicken," said Jack. "Supposedly," he added, after another look. "But it dunt look like no chicken I ever see."

"Ah, reconstituted factory sludge, chemical by-products, mechanically-recovered meat and whatever else happened to fall into the meat grinder that day," said Ellie, with a sardonic smile. "Just like Mother used to make…"

Her smile disappeared again.

"God, this is awful. Worse than usual, and I didn't think that was physically possible. Do yourselves a favour and don't eat the rest. It's horrible."

"Oh, I'm not," said Lisa, pushing away the plate. "I want to live to see my next birthday. How can they get away with serving food like this to us? I'm surprised they don't have riots on their hands."

"This is Arklay High, Lisa. Riots are considered a normal part of daily life in this school," said Ellie. "If for some reason all the teachers disappeared, it'd be a fairly safe bet to say that this place would be on fire within ten minutes. The teachers are basically the only reason there isn't rioting, anarchy and looting in the streets right now."

"Wow. This place is a madhouse," said Lisa, looking around.

"Trust me, you haven't seen the half of it," said Ellie darkly. "Oh, and Jack, take my advice and don't drink the juice. It's rumoured to be poisonous."

Jack cast a wary eye over his juice carton. It looked harmless enough. There were pictures of succulent-looking oranges on the front, and the carton was labelled "Raccoon Brand Farm Fresh Orange Juice - Now With Real Oranges!".

"It dunt _look_ poisonous," he ventured.

"Maybe it isn't, but all the same, I wouldn't drink it," said Ellie. "I spilled some on my backpack last year and the stain still hasn't come out. Imagine what kind of damage that stuff will do to your digestive system if it won't even wash out of fabric."

"Since you put it like that," said Jack, "I dunt think I better drink it. Wonder what they put in it b'fore they put real oranges in it?"

"It doesn't bear thinking about, does it?" said Ellie, raising her eyebrows. "Stick with the soda. At least that probably won't kill you."

"Is there anything we _can_ eat here?" said Lisa. "I wouldn't mind skipping lunch so much, but I didn't have any breakfast either… I could really do with something to eat."

"I've got these," said Ellie, rummaging in the depths of her backpack and producing an apple, a banana and some chocolate-chip cookies. "Here, get those down you."

"How come you buy lunch as well?" said Jack, surprised by the gesture. "Dint think you need lunch if you got food already. Dunt look like you gonna eat much more'n us either. You sure you want us to have this?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it," said Ellie airily. "I've always got some food on me. Have to keep some around just in case my blood sugar gets low, see."

"How come?" said Jack, freezing in the act of reaching for the banana.

"Diagnosed with diabetes last year," said Ellie, and she sighed heavily. Now, as she had done when they'd seen her insulted in the classroom, she seemed smaller, quieter and less robust.

Lisa opened her mouth.

"Oh," was all she managed to come out with. "Oh, I'm sorry. That's awful."

"Yeah, I know. Bit of a bugger really, because I hate needles, but there you are. You get used to it, I suppose. And at least it makes me a bit harder to pick on. Not done to bully someone with a medical condition, after all - not even here. Anyway, eat your fruit, it's good for you. If you save me a biscuit or two for later, I'll be all right with that."

"You sure?" said Jack, still hesitating.

"Yeah, no probs. Help yourselves. I can always pick up some chocolate on the way home," said Ellie.

"Thank you, Ellie," said Lisa, touched by the girl's kindness.

"Ah, it's nothing," said Ellie. "Just save me some, yeah?"

Lisa nodded. She picked up the apple and was about to bite into it when she felt a sudden chill in the air and the weight of several disdainful stares on her shoulders. Jack shrank back a little in his seat, and Ellie's plain features once again twisted into an angry scowl.

_Oh no,_ Lisa thought, dreading the sight she knew she was about to see. _Well, Ellie got it right about the Four Horsewomen of the High School Apocalypse - here they come now. Feuds, Anorexia, STDs and Social Death, all riding forth. You can practically hear them thinking of something bitchy to say to us._

"Our food not good enough for you, new kids?" sneered Hazel, sweeping past them with the icy hauteur of a high school queen. Beverley and Leticia, flanking her on either side, smirked through glossed lips as they passed by.

"No, they just want to survive their first day," retorted Ellie. "Mind you, if you lot are going to carry on treating them like scum, I wouldn't blame them if they started shovelling the stuff down their throats. Anything's better than having to listen to your sneering, you evil-smelling, stuck-up cow."

Hazel stopped in her tracks and turned around. She drew herself up, her already expansive chest inflating even more with affronted pride.

"For your information," she said frostily, "That "evil smell" is the latest fragrance from Anne-Caroline d'Echy, who's _the_ hottest new designer in Paris right now. Anyone who's anyone wears it. I see _you_ just stick to soap and water, Eleanor."

"She doesn't even bother with the soap," sniped Leticia.

"Or the water. When did you last have a bath?" said Beverley, pretending to gag.

"I shower," said Ellie cheerfully. "Three times a year, regular. Don't worry your pretty little head about the smell, Beverley, January will roll around soon enough. Though I have to say that my own, more natural fragrance is still better than Eau de Chemical Death, and at least I have the comfort of knowing that mine will wash off eventually. Yours is going to linger long after Mademoiselle d'Echy becomes _so_ last season, you poor daft trollops. Where's your glorious leader, anyway? Off somewhere in a broom cupboard getting her leg over Jake Maddigan? Better go and fetch her before you run out of ways to insult me…"

Hazel's eyes narrowed, but she managed to retain what little remained of her _froideur _by gliding past and pretending not to notice this last comment. Leticia and Beverley did the same, although Leticia did make a spirited attempt at what Lisa liked to think of as a Look of Death.

"Mine's better," Lisa muttered to herself.

"Huh?" said Jack.

"Never mind," she told him. "Just talking to myself."

"They'll call you crazy if you do that, you know," Ellie pointed out. "Don't give them an excuse to pick on you too, Lisa. They'll jump on you the minute you put a foot out of place. Hell, I'm not bothered about being insulted - I can handle myself. But you seem like a sweet girl and not the type to trade insults on a regular basis. Don't put yourself in the firing line unless you're certain you'll make it out alive."

_The firing line?_ Lisa thought to herself. _Never mind the firing line, I've been to hell on earth - and made it out alive a dozen times. If I can survive zombies, I can deal with a couple of bitchy high school girls._

Outside the privacy of her head, she said:

"I can handle myself too, Ellie. Really."

"Well, if you say so," said Ellie evenly. "And even if you can't, you've always got me and Jack to look after you, right?"

Lisa smiled.

"Right," she said, and bit hard into her apple. Her teeth sank into the sweet, crisp fruit with a satisfying crunch, and suddenly life seemed a little less frustrating.

xxxxxxxxxx

Students poured out of the building in their dozens, a veritable tide of humanity spilling out into the wet and leaf-strewn yard. Even though it was still raining, they all looked relieved to be out of the building.

"See you tomorrow," Ellie called out, hurrying away down the street, and Jack and Lisa waved back.

When she'd disappeared from sight, they started to make their way home, heads kept lowered to stop the wind from blowing cold rain straight into their faces. After several minutes of walking into the prevailing wind, Lisa said:

"Well, that was… interesting."

"Interesting? Lise, they hate us already," Jack complained. "Our first day an' people already be lookin' at us like we be zoo animals. That Jake guy an' his _amigos_ threaten us, that blonde girl be comin' on to me, an' everybody else be whisperin' 'bout us 'cause that teacher just hadda go tell everybody we be from Raccoon City. They prob'ly think we be zombies or somethin'. No way we ever gonna settle in here."

"Cheer up, Jack," said Lisa, in what she hoped was a conciliatory tone of voice. "It's only our first day. Things will get better, and even if they don't, we won't be here for long. And at least we made a friend."

"Yeah. What'd you think of her?"

"She's quite a character, isn't she?"

"That an uptown way of sayin' she got a real big mouth?"

Lisa smiled.

"Sort of," she said. "I haven't decided yet if she's forthright and outspoken, or just loud and tactless. Still, her heart seems to be in the right place, and she saved us from the Atomic Blondes, so that puts her on the side of the angels as far as I'm concerned. How about you?"

"I like her," said Jack cautiously. "Though maybe she oughta keep her mouth shut a bit more. She gonna rub everybody up the wrong way if she ain't careful. Dunt think she really care 'bout that, though."

"Me either."

"You know, she kinda remind me of someone I used to know back in Tijuana," said Jack thoughtfully. "Kid called Pedro. Nice kid, in his way, but only in small doses. If you be around him a long time you wanna strangle him 'cause he got a dozen annoyin' little habits that get on you nerves real bad. Thing is, he dunt understand you only wanna be around him for a little while, an' he want to be your best friend, so he tag along after you the whole time an' 'cause he be a nice kid, you dunt got the heart to tell him you want him to go away. He want you to like him an' you no can bring youself to tell him you do like him, but no _that_ much."

For several moments there was silence. The rain kept pouring down as they walked slowly on through the damp grey streets, half-lost in their own thoughts. It was some time before Lisa spoke.

"I know what you mean," she said. "Ellie's not quite like that, but she does really want to be liked. So much that maybe she tries a little too hard to impress people."

"She ain't as big as her talk, you mean?" said Jack.

"That's exactly what I mean. She's a perfectly nice person, but put her anywhere near the people who don't like her and she changes completely. I think she uses that tough-girl persona so she can act like she doesn't care when people make fun of her. She does, though. Look what happened when Jake called her a freak. That really hurt her."

"Yeah," said Jack. "You notice how she an' the blonde girls an' the jocks kinda be fightin' over us? Karen want you to be her new best friend so she can turn you into one of her gang, Jake think he can make us like him 'cause he be the Mayor's son an' he can beat us up if we dunt show him respect, an' then Ellie be tryin' to impress us with how individual she be, tryin' to make us like her. Everybody want us to be on they side."

"It's like uptown and downtown all over again," said Lisa. "Except this time it's Ellie against everyone else in the school. No wonder she wants us to be her friends. I think I'd want someone else on my side if I was her."

"I kinda like her more now that you say that," admitted Jack. "Poor kid. She must be real lonely. We gonna be her friends, Lise?"

"Well, she's the only friend we have right now, Jack," said Lisa. "And for all her faults, I like her. I think she'll make a good friend once we get to know her better."

"Right," Jack agreed. "You know, I be kinda glad we run into Ellie now."

"Me too. I think we're going to need a friend now that we're here…"

xxxxxxxxxx

Ellie walked the long way back to her house, her Army jacket draped over her head and shoulders to protect herself and her backpack from the worst of the rain.

She felt unusually pleased about today. For once, she'd managed to get to the new kids in her class before Karen or Jake could turn them against her. Jack and Lisa seemed like nice kids, if a little quiet and reserved, and they hadn't been impressed by Karen or intimidated by Jake, so maybe there was hope for them yet.

It would be good to have friends again. Moving from London and leaving behind all her childhood friends had been hard. Coming here to this town and this school, where conformity was the norm and individuality was not only discouraged but ruthlessly stamped on, at least if there was any danger that the personality in question might eclipse those of the popular kids… that had been even harder. Nobody here wanted to associate with her because she was _different _and Karen and Jake and their followers would turn on them if they did, and so she'd spent the past seventeen months alone, a solitary rebel in a place where nobody dared to defy the status quo.

Yes, it would be good to have someone on her side for a change. She needed all the allies she could get in this war zone of a school. All she'd had before now was Connor Goldberg, who seemed to like everybody indiscriminately and couldn't bring himself to see anything but the best in his classmates. He was a good soul, of course, but not to be relied upon; he associated with the enemy just as often and as willingly as he hung out with her.

Ellie stopped walking to wipe the beads of water from her glasses. She was sick of doing this all the time, she decided. It would be a relief when it started snowing again, even if she didn't like the cold very much.

A look at her watch surprised her, and a quick review of her surroundings surprised her even more. She must have been walking much faster than usual; she was almost home already. Her father wouldn't be home from work for a while yet, and her mother had said that she was going to visit a friend of hers on the other side of town, which meant tea, cake and _long_ conversations that wouldn't end until at least half past four, when Ginny would inevitably get grumpy and tired and throw loud tantrums until her mother made her excuses and took her home again. Luke would probably be over at his best friend's house, it being Monday afternoon, and Mel was almost certainly holed up in a café somewhere with a group of giggling, gossiping friends… and the only other set of house keys in her handbag.

In short, there was absolutely no point in going home, because there was nobody there and the house was locked. She had no money and no pressing errands to keep her in town, so she decided that she might as well go for a walk in the woods to pass the time.

She hadn't left the confines of the town for several months, mainly because her mother had been frightened into fits by the random spate of attacks in the area and had ordered the entire family not to go anywhere near Raccoon Forest, especially not on their own.

Ellie hadn't argued; she had no desire to be mauled by any of the wild animals or Satanic cannibal cult members said to be responsible for the attacks, and the rumours of zombies, however odd and unlikely, had been unnerving enough to keep her indoors. The only road into and out of the mountains had been closed off for a considerable period of time due to the attacks and, later, the viral outbreak in Raccoon City, so she had been forced to content herself with Arklay's few and modest attractions.

It had been the most boring summer of her entire life. Still, the stricken Raccoon City had been eliminated by a missile strike and the reports of attacks had dwindled into nothing, so it was probably safe to venture beyond the boundaries of Arklay again. She changed direction and headed for the outskirts of town.

The edge of Raccoon Forest was only a few yards away now, but the trees ahead of her were thin and slightly depressing evergreens instead of the spectacular displays of colour on show elsewhere in the forest. No heaps of fallen leaves here, no vivid autumn hues of red, russet, ochre, orange and gold; just straggly pines and squat, ugly conifers, a featureless display of dark green enveloped in a thin grey mist. It was spooky but oddly inviting, and Ellie felt herself being drawn towards it.

Her feet tramped through wet undergrowth and long, damp grass, and now she wished that she hadn't worn her old trainers, which leaked in wet weather and left her with cold toes and damp socks. Too late now, though; she might as well carry on going.

_Why am I doing this? This is stupid. It's cold and wet and misty, and I'm going to end up going home with wet feet. It's not like there's even much to look at in this part of the forest. You can't see the view from here, and it's all boring pines instead of those pretty autumn colours. What's the point of me being here?_

Still not fully understanding why, Ellie kept walking deeper and deeper into the woods until she finally came to her senses and stopped. She looked round and saw nothing but a mix of evergreen and deciduous trees, shrouded in mist. She realised with a jolt that she had absolutely no idea where she was, or how far she'd walked into the forest.

"Oh, bugger," she said quietly to herself.

This definitely wasn't good. However, she wasn't about to go blundering even further into the forest looking for a way out; knowing her luck, she'd only end up getting even more lost, and then she'd be in real trouble. Instead, Ellie sat down on a small rock and wondered what to do.

_I should probably wait here until the mist clears - no, no, that could take hours, and it'll be dark by then. I could be stuck out here all night. My clothes are all wet, it gets really cold when the sun goes down, and these few biscuits I've got won't last long. Even if I don't get pneumonia or die of exposure, I don't have much food with me and the rest of my insulin's in the fridge at home - oh, why did I have to be so stupid? I'll probably end up dead out here, less than a mile from home but still hopelessly lost and without my medicine… typical. Bloody typical. I just had to go and -_

Ellie stiffened at the sound of swishing undergrowth. Something was coming…

_Shit! What if it's one of those mad cult members, or a wild animal? No hiker in their right mind would be out in the woods on a day like this, and who else would come up here apart from me? Oh, no, now I'm really in trouble, and all I've got is my Swiss Army knife. What good's that against a wild animal or a crazy devil-worshipper? And I can't run because I don't know where the hell I'm running to!_

Something grabbed Ellie by the shoulder and she shrieked involuntarily, turning round to defend herself against her unknown attacker.

"What are you doing here?" said a man's voice roughly.

"Wh-what?" said Ellie faintly, lowering her arm.

"I said, what are you doing here, kid? You shouldn't be here," said the irate man, who, contrary to all expectations, was wearing a neat grey suit and carrying a briefcase. She just had time to notice that the logo on the corner of the briefcase was that of a little red and white umbrella before the man grabbed her face and forced her to look at him.

"I asked you a _question_, young lady," he said roughly. "I expect an answer."

"I - I'm lost," said Ellie timidly, feeling a blush rising to her cheeks. Inside her head, Ellie's inner badass rolled her eyes in disgust. "Please, can you help me get back to town? I was on my way home from school and I sort of wandered into the woods looking for a shortcut, and now I don't know where I am."

The man frowned.

"Well, you should be more careful," he told her, releasing her abruptly. "The forest isn't a safe place for a young girl. You're very lucky that I found you before you came to any harm. I'll escort you back into town this time, but you mustn't go into the forest again."

"Why not?" said Ellie, before she could stop herself.

"I'm a surveyor from the Umbrella Corporation's architectural division," the man told her. "We've been scouting out locations for a new company retreat, and with Arklay's past history as a holiday resort and the proximity to the hot springs, this is the ideal place for a new hotel and spa complex. There's going to be a lot of construction work in the next few months, and we might have to fell some trees in this area to get to the site, so it's not safe for people to be wandering around unaccompanied. Plus, of course, there's the fact that you're standing on private property. You're trespassing, young lady."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise - there weren't any signs up or anything and I go for walks in the woods all the time, I had no idea any of this was someone's property," Ellie babbled, hoping that she wasn't going to get in trouble for this. The time she'd smacked Karen Hall in the face during a fight and been suspended from school was bad enough, but her parents would be furious if they thought she'd been trespassing, especially after they'd warned her not to go into the forest.

"All right. But next time you stray onto private property, you won't get off so lightly," the Umbrella employee warned her. "Now enough chit-chat. You need to go back home where you belong."

"Will you come with me?" said Ellie faintly, hoping that she sounded suitably chastened and pathetic.

"Yes, I said I'd take you back. I'm on my way back into town anyway. I'm meeting with the Mayor this afternoon to discuss the plans for the resort, so I'll leave you outside the city hall. I'm sure you can find your way home from there."

"Thank you," said Ellie, deeply relieved now that she wasn't in trouble or in danger of being found half-eaten by bears a week after her mysterious disappearance.

The long walk back through the woods was conducted in absolute silence. The Umbrella employee said nothing and made no attempt to communicate with her, or even make eye contact. Ellie followed him quietly through the trees, grateful for her good fortune and her unlikely rescuer.

The mist was clearing now, and the edge of the forest soon came into view. The Umbrella employee ushered Ellie through a gap between two trees and suddenly she was out in the open again, with Arklay straight ahead; she'd never been so happy to see the little town before.

"Thank you," she said again, but the man said nothing. He simply carried on walking into town and then through the streets until the large and, Ellie thought, unnecessarily grand shape of Arklay City Hall came into view.

"Here we are," said the employee, stopping outside the front doors. "Now off you go. Go home, and remember to stay out of the woods in future."

"I will," said Ellie, and ran for it before the man could say anything else.

When she had gone, the man pulled out a cellphone from the pocket of his blazer and flipped it open, dialling a number.

"Dr Hazlitt?" he said. "I've scouted out the area. Everything appears to be in order and construction can begin immediately. However, we'll need to secure the site from accidental intrusion by civilians and check for - yes, sir. I'm outside now. I'll have the official report ready by this time tomorrow. Yes, sir. That's right. I'm not anticipating any problems here. All right then, I'll speak to you again tomorrow. Goodbye."

He replaced the phone in his pocket and marched up the steps to the front doors of the building. One door opened and closed with a loud creak, and then he was gone from view.

xxxxxxxxxx

The apartment was way too quiet, Lisa thought, as she put away her completed homework. She wished there was some kind of background noise here - passing cars, the sound of an unwatched TV blaring commercials to an absent audience, or some music she could put on to chase away the silence. All she could hear was the ticking of the clock on the wall and Jack's quiet breathing as he wrestled with grammar. He no longer wrote the same way he spoke, but he still struggled with his written English and was concentrating hard on what he was doing.

Lisa looked around. The Harlech family's taste had been impeccable when it came to the living room, master bedroom and dining room, but they'd gone for a more modern look when it came to the kitchen, and the room was full of funky plastic furniture and Seventies kitsch - the kind of modern that had been effortlessly cool twenty years ago but was now well behind the times.

Still, the room was quite attractive in a retro sort of way, and Seventies kitsch was something she could learn to live with. The only thing she didn't like was the clock, a wall-mounted plastic thing in the shape of a cartoon cat. The cat's pendulum tail swung back and forth with every tick, which also had the effect of making the eyes move from side to side. The overall effect was unnerving, though the young Harlech twins had presumably thought it was cute, all those years ago.

Jack made an exasperated sound in the back of his throat and threw his pen down roughly, burying his head in his hands.

Lisa leaned forward.

"Need some help, Jack?"

Jack nodded.

"Yeah, I be real stuck on this sentence. Dunt know whether I oughta use "was" or "had". Can you help me out, Lise?"

"Of course I will," said Lisa, picking up Jack's pen and pulling his homework towards her. In spite of Jack's best efforts, it was rife with spelling and grammatical errors, which she deftly corrected.

"You've missed out three commas in this paragraph," she told him. "And you're mixing your tenses again. You can't use past _and _present tense in the same piece of writing. You should be using past tense here, since this is a History assignment and what you're describing isn't what's happening right now, it's what's already happened. Oh, and you've written "there" instead of "their" again…"

Jack groaned.

"I _never_ gonna be able to get my English right," he said. "I sound like a five-year-old when I write."

"No you don't," said Lisa. "You're getting much better. Give it six months and your writing will be even better than mine."

"Now you know that ain't true," Jack rebuked her. "You got perfect grammar an' everythin'. No way I could write better'n you."

"I bet you could if you put your mind to it. You just need more practice, that's all," said Lisa, filling in the last missing comma and handing the homework back.

"_Gracias - _uh, thanks," Jack corrected himself hastily, remembering Lisa's minimal command of Spanish.

"I really have to learn more Spanish," Lisa mused aloud, as Jack carried on writing. "Perhaps I should just talk to you in Spanish and you should talk to me in English, so we can practise at the same time."

"Yeah," said Jack absent-mindedly, placing a careful full stop at the end of a sentence and starting a new paragraph. "Maybe I oughta - damn. Uh, Lise? You dunt put exclamation marks at the start of the sentence when you write English, do you?"

"No, Jack, question and exclamation marks only go at the end," said Lisa. "And you probably shouldn't even be using exclamation marks in an essay for school unless you're quoting somebody. Mind if I take a look?"

"Go ahead."

Lisa took back the homework and read through the paragraph that Jack had just written.

"No, definitely no exclamation marks, Jack," she said, and handed it back again.

"Thanks."

A moment later, Jack cursed again as he made another mistake and flung down his pen, which promptly rolled off the end of the table and landed on the linoleum.

"Dammit… why this gotta be so _hard_?"

"Maybe you should leave it there for tonight," said Lisa gently. "It doesn't have to be in until Wednesday afternoon. Why don't you come back to it tomorrow when we get home from school?"

"Okay," said Jack, with a sigh.

He packed away his school things with a certain amount of reluctance; he didn't like leaving things unfinished, but he knew Lisa was right. He only had another half-page to write anyway, and getting frustrated would only lead to more mistakes.

He looked up to see Lisa watching him intently, as if she was expecting him to suddenly jump up on the table and do a little dance.

"What?" he said, rather self-consciously.

"Nothing," said Lisa, and she smiled suddenly. "Sorry. I just like watching you."

"Same here," said Jack. "I could look at you all day, Lise. Nothin' in the world I rather look at than you."

Lisa reached across the table; Jack did the same, and clasped her small, delicate hands in his.

"I love you," he told her, and he felt his heart melt as Lisa's pretty face lit up with a smile.

"I love you too, Jack," she said. There seemed to be so much warmth and affection in her voice that there was barely room left over for the words. "More than anything."

"Would I be here right now if you dint?" said Jack, half-jokingly.

Lisa looked hurt.

"Of course you would," she said, with a hint of reproach in her voice. "Even if I didn't love you, you're my best friend. There's no way I couldn't fight to keep you safe."

"I know, Lise. I just glad you care 'bout me so much. I no would be alive right now if I dint have you."

"I know. We're both lucky to be alive. Very lucky."

A loud meow came out of nowhere. Lisa gave a little shriek and looked round in panic, and Jack almost fell off his chair in fright.

"What was that?" Lisa gasped.

Sudden realisation drew their gazes to the clock on the wall. The hands were pointing to the numbers 12 and 10; ten o'clock exactly, which explained the noise. The unexpected meow had been the cat clock striking ten.

"I hate that damn clock," said Lisa, calming down again. "I wish we could take it off the wall, or at least take out the batteries. It really freaks me out."

"Well, it ain't you clock to take down, Lise," Jack reminded her. "An' I thought you like cats."

"I do, but that clock's creepy. Cats shouldn't grin."

"You ever see _Alice In Wonderland_?"

"Yes, I did. It gave me nightmares."

Jack burst out laughing.

"_Nightmares_?" he said. "_Alice In Wonderland _give you _nightmares_?"

"I was only five," said Lisa hotly. "I was scared of the Red Queen. She was mean to Alice and she liked cutting people's heads off. Can you blame me?"

"Jeez, Lise… scared of _Alice In Wonderland_…" Jack sniggered.

"Oh yes? You think being afraid of Disney movies is stupid? Well, Jack Carpenter, I only have one thing to say to you," retorted Lisa.

Jack tried to control his laughter.

"What?" he said, grinning.

"_Bambi_," said Lisa, with an evil grin of her own.

Jack yelped and hid under the table.

"Dunt mention that movie! That scare the crap outta me!" he cried.

Lisa peered under the table at her cowering boyfriend and grinned.

"_He can call me a flower if he wants to…_" she said mockingly.

"Agh! Quit it!" Jack yelled.

"I bet you cried when Bambi's mother died."

"No I dint!"

"I bet you did…"

"I - "

"_And _when Mufasa died."

"Hey, that be _The Lion King_," protested Jack. "That be a completely diff'rent - "

He stopped in the face of Lisa's helpless giggles and cringed; he'd played right into her hands.

"That be a real mean trick, Lise," he said accusingly.

"How old are you, Jack?" Lisa laughed. "A little old to know so much about Disney movies, aren't you?"

"Speak for youself, Lise, you know the plot of _Oliver An' Company _way too well for someone you age," Jack retaliated, with a mischievous grin on his face as he climbed out from underneath the table.

"Oh… shut up," said Lisa, punching him on the arm. "That movie saved our life. Taught you all you knew about hotwiring cars, for one thing."

"I dint learn a thing from that movie," complained Jack. "The grown-ups lie to us back when we be kids… zombies dunt exist but the Easter Bunny do? It be so easy to hotwire a car that a bunch of dogs can do it? A fairy godmother always gonna come an' save you sorry ass? Pff… like that would ever happen. Miracle we survive Raccoon City after all those years bein' indoctrinated. What if we just click our heels an' say "No place like home" instead of armin' to the teeth an' makin' a break for it? We woulda been really screwed."

"Grown-ups think lies can protect people from all the bad parts of real life," said Lisa regretfully, her amusement instantly forgotten. "Lies like "No, we didn't even know Charlotte had moved" or "There are no zombies in Raccoon City" or "Umbrella makes medicines to help people". But it doesn't work. Sooner or later, the truth always comes out. You'd think it would just be easier on everyone if they told us the truth in the first place… there'd be a lot more people alive today if they did."

"Oh, Lise," said Jack, his face falling. "Dunt start gettin' sad 'gain, _querida_. I know it hurt but it all be over now. We got a place to live an' people fightin' the battles for us so it dunt ever happen 'gain, an' we got a new friend, an' a whole new life. Things gonna be all right, just like you tell me."

"I know. I just miss what we had."

"Me too. But we oughta think 'bout what we got now. An' what we gonna have."

"Like a good night's sleep," said Lisa, looking at the disturbing cat clock. "It's getting late. I really don't want to go to school tired, especially if there's a chance the popular kids are going to take a real dislike to us. We can handle them a lot better if we're not tired."

"I know they ain't nice people, but I dunt wanna get picked on here too," said Jack. "I dunt care if they dunt like us - I just dunt want 'em to hate us. They decide they hate us, they gonna make our lives miserable. Dunt think I can go through all that 'gain, Lise."

"Hopefully you won't have to," said Lisa, hugging him. "Well, goodnight, Jack. Sleep well, okay?"

"You too, babe. Love you."

"Love you too. Sleep tight, and sweet dreams."

xxxxxxxxxx

Lisa didn't know how she'd managed to escape her parents' clutches this time, but somehow she'd evaded those dead hands and had run into the hall. She slammed the kitchen door behind her and locked it, but she could still hear fingernails scrabbling at the door, and thuds as they tried to break through.

The phone was ringing shrilly, and she made a dive for it, snatching up the receiver. She knew who it had to be; this was the phone call that could have saved them all from this terrible fate, the same phone call that she'd stupidly ignored and dismissed as a joke, but now this was her chance to put things right. This time, she could answer the phone and heed the caller's warning.

"Dr Redmond?" she gasped. "Dr Redmond, it's Lisa, Dr Hartley's daughter, you called me and I didn't listen and I'm sorry, I really am! I should have known it wasn't a joke, I should have listened to you - oh, Dr Redmond, please help me! My parents are dead and now they're coming after me, and I'm scared! Please tell me what to do! Jack's not here and I don't know what to do!"

But there was no voice on the other end; just the sound of the phone ringing, on and on, even though she'd already picked it up.

_Ring, ring… ring, ring… ring, ring…_

"Dr Redmond?" she tried again. "Dr Redmond, it's me, Lisa! Can you hear me?"

Wood splintered as part of a door panel fell away. Blood-stained fingers pushed through the gap, reaching blindly out towards whatever they could grab. Still the endless thuds, the scratching of fingernails on wood.

_Ring, ring… ring, ring… ring, ring…_

"Dr Redmond! Dr Redmond, are you there?" Lisa said desperately. "Help me, Dr Redmond! They're coming for me and Jack's not here! I don't know where he is! You're the only one who can help me! Please help me!"

There was another crash as the rest of the door panel gave way and fell onto the wooden floor of the hall. The hole in the door was much wider now, and she could hear more wood splintering above the noise of the phone's inexplicable ringing.

_Ring, ring… ring, ring…_

"Join us…" snarled her parents from the other side of the door. "Join us, Lisa…"

"Dr Redmond! Help me!" Lisa yelled down the phone. "I know you're there! You have to be! You called and I answered the phone! Whatever you have to say to me, I'm listening this time! Please say something! Anything!"

The kitchen door collapsed, raining splinters and broken wood onto the polished wooden floor. Brass hinges landed on the floor with a clink, and the doorknob rolled across the polished wooden floor until it hit Lisa's sneakers. Lisa's zombie parents had fallen flat on their faces, but were already struggling to get up.

_Ring, ring… ring, ring…_

"Dr Redmond!" Lisa yelled hoarsely down the phone. "Dr Redmond, help me! You have to help me! I know you can hear me! Tell me what to do! _Help me!"_

She was almost screaming now, desperate to be heard above the moans of her dead parents and the neverending sound of the phone ringing. Yet the answering voice she was hoping for never came.

_Ring, ring…_

"Help me, Dr Redmond!" she wailed, her voice dissolving into dry sobs of fear. "Please!"

A cold hand grabbed her ankle, and she screamed as she looked down to see her father clutching her in a death-grip, trying to sink his teeth into her leg. She tried frantically to shake him off, kick him away, but somehow the phone cord was getting tangled around her arms and waist.

_Ring, ring…_

Her mother dived at her, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her to the floor. Shrieking, Lisa grabbed at the table to stop herself from falling, but the two zombies were too strong and dragged her to the floor. Once again, they'd got her, and now there was no escape.

"Join us…" hissed her father, and promptly sank his teeth into her calf.

Lisa heard her own scream of agony and despair echoing through the rest of the house as the phone clattered to the floor, still ringing.

"No!" she screamed, even though she knew it was already far too late. "Dr Redmond! Dr Redmond! _Janice!"_

_Ring, ring -_

xxxxxxxxxx

_Ring, ring…_

Lisa awoke in a flat panic, the sound of the phone still ringing in her ears. It took her a moment to realise that it had been another nightmare, and nothing more. But why wouldn't the ringing stop?

_Ring, ring…_

This ring had a slightly different tone to it. It was less shrill and insistent, and sounded more like an old-fashioned phone. No, it wasn't a dream this time; it was the apartment phone, ringing in the kitchen.

Lisa sat up, trying to extricate her legs from the tangled sheets, but footsteps were already passing her door. Figuring that Jack was probably in more of a position to answer it than she was, she straightened out the sheets until she was comfortable again and rolled over to go back to sleep.

The time on the alarm clock on her bedside table was 2:57. Still the middle of the night. Lisa allowed her eyes to close so that she could sink back into sleep, but they snapped open again.

_Who the hell is calling us at three in the morning? Don't they know what time it is?_

Jack was obviously wondering the same thing; she could hear him yelling down the phone even from this distance.

"Do you know what time it is?" he bawled. "Three o'clock in the _pinche mañana_! What kind of _pinche baboso_ be callin' at three in the _pinche mañana_? What the hell do you want at this time in the mornin', huh? If you be tryin' to sell me somethin' then you can just go an' - "

He uttered a string of near-incomprehensible Mexican Spanish that made Lisa wince. Although she couldn't make out half of what he'd said, she'd recognised some of it and they were not the kind of words that you'd use in front of your maiden aunt, or even the most degenerate piece of humanity for that matter. It was probably time to intervene before he threatened to castrate the unfortunate caller.

She climbed out of bed, still listening in faint horror as Jack screamed abuse at the telephone, and made her way down the hall to the kitchen. A furious Jack was leaning against the wall, still dressed for bed in boxer shorts and a baggy grey t-shirt, and, as she'd feared, he was now threatening to castrate the unfortunate caller.

" - an' mail 'em home to your _puta madre_!" he snarled. "You think I be jokin'? If you ever call this number 'gain late at night an' wake everybody up, I gonna come after you an' make you wish you never - "

"Jack, that's enough!" Lisa scolded him. "Give me that! Whoever it is, _I'll _deal with it! No wonder you kept getting dragged in by the cops in Raccoon City with a temper like that! Go to bed and get your sleep before you kill somebody!"

She snatched the phone from his hand as he stared at her, open-mouthed, and she said:

"All right, who is this and why are you calling so late?"

There was a long silence from the other end of the phone.

"_Um_…" said the caller awkwardly. "_I only wanted to see how you were settling in…_"

Lisa's mouth fell open in shock.

"Dr Harlech?" she gasped, and Jack jumped. "Dr H, where are you? Are you okay?"

"_I'm fine_," said the scientist meekly, "_though I'm quite glad I don't have a Y chromosome. Jack isn't… um, he isn't really a mornings person, is he?_"

"No, he's not," said Lisa, looking up to glare at a suddenly very contrite Jack, who was blushing red to the roots of his hair. "And he's very sorry he threatened to have you castrated, aren't you, Jack?"

Jack flinched.

"Oh, jeez…" he said in a very small voice, and hid his face in his hands.

"_Quite_," said Dr Harlech, with a polite cough. "_It's just as well I don't have those bits, really. And even if I did, he might as well save the stamps. My mother has been dead for several years now and she's considerably past caring._"

"Dr H, I'm _so _sorry," apologised Lisa. "I'm sure he didn't mean to yell at you like that. I don't think he knew who was calling. It's quite late and, well, I guess he didn't appreciate the early wake-up call very much."

"_Yes, I sort of gathered that_," said Dr Harlech stiffly. "_Excuse me for a moment…_"

There was a crackle and the sound of Dr Harlech yelling:

"_Call yourself French, Lavelle? You don't even know anything about this place! Especially not about time zones! It's only three in the morning back home! Thanks to your incompetence, I just woke them up! Jack even threatened to have me castrated because of you!"_

"_I'm Cajun French_!" came the muffled but indignant reply. "_Half -Cajun French! That's not the same thing! I've never even been to France before! Don't blame me if you're going to be castrated!_"

"_You're an idiot!"_

"_I'm an idiot with an AK-47, which makes me smarter than you!"_

"_I have a Magnum under my pillow, you know! That makes me a genius!"_

"_Just talk to them already, you're running up Amber's phone bill!"_

"_All right, all right!"_

Dr Harlech's voice became much nearer and clearer again.

"_Hello, are you guys still there?_" she said. "_Oh, good. Anyway, how are you settling in? Is everything okay? How was your first day at school?_"

"Not too bad. We made a friend," Lisa answered.

_And who knows how many enemies, including the Mayor's son…_

"_Oh, that is good news_," said the scientist happily. "_Well, we're all fine here, though Renée dropped a grenade into the bidet in her hotel room to see what happened and blew a hole in the bathroom wall, so there was a rather heated argument with the hotel manager…_"

"_Hey, that was an accident! It fell out of my back pocket while I was trying to work out how the hell you're supposed to flush the toilets here!_" Renée yelled in the background, and Lisa giggled. That was just the kind of thing that happened to Renée on a regular basis. She was beginning to miss the bright, cheery mercenary and the chaos that she innocently left in her wake.

"_Yes, anyway, we're here with the STARS members and a few of their contacts, and we're heading out tomorrow to investigate reports of another new bioweapons lab in the next town_," said Dr Harlech brightly. "_Everyone's fine, we're alive, well and kicking ass, so it's business as usual for us, really. We miss you, though. You'd have enjoyed seeing the explosion this morning when we derailed a company freight train._"

"When are you coming back, Dr H?" said Lisa. "Soon?" she added hopefully.

"_Fairly soon, I expect_," said Dr Harlech. "_Disrupting the company's transport network two hours after landing in Paris isn't a bad start, and if we keep this up, we should be home by the end of the month. The European bioweapons programme is based almost entirely in France, but Amber and Jill want to check out a few places in Spain and Germany too, just to make sure. Our contacts have reliably informed us that all the other European facilities are just making pharmaceuticals - for now, anyway. So we shouldn't have to go much further afield. We can get the company shut down before they have time to shift their research to other facilities. Barry says it'll all be over by Christmas. We'll be home before then, of course._"

"That's great," said Lisa enthusiastically, hoping that the tiredness in her voice wouldn't show.

"_Anyway, I - oh, hold on, Renée wants to talk to you,_" said Dr Harlech. "_I'll talk to you again soon. Bye, Lisa!_"

"_Hi!_" said a different voice, full of energy, and Lisa smiled again. There was no mistaking Renée.

"Hey, Renée," she said, stifling a yawn. "How's it going?"

"_Awesome!_" exclaimed the mercenary, so loud that Lisa had to take the phone away from her ear for a second. "_We blew stuff up within two hours of having got out of the airport! Carlos thought my mortar bomb kicked ass, especially when it set off the self-destruct system in the transport facility, and I hadn't even planned that part! And I blew up a bidet, but that was an accident, so don't listen to Dr H, because she's lying… so anyway, how's life back home?_"

"It's pretty good, I guess," said Lisa, yawning again.

"_Yeah… sorry about the whole time zone thing. I forgot you were eight hours behind, not ahead. Won't happen again_," Renée promised. "_So, we're okay and you're okay, that's good. You want to talk to Amber? She's right here and complaining about how much we're running up her phone bill. Maybe talking to you will make her forget about it for a while._"

"Okay," said Lisa, although she was beginning to wish that the phone cord would stretch all the way to her room, so she could at least lie down. She contented herself with sitting down on the chair and resting her head on the kitchen table.

"_Right, here she is. Bye!"_

"_Hi, Lisa_," said Amber's voice, just as upbeat but much calmer than hyperactive Renée. "_How are you, honey? How's Jack doing?_"

"We're fine, Amber," said Lisa. "It's good to hear from you again. Glad you guys are okay. The mission must be going well if everyone's sounding so happy."

"_Yeah, not bad for our first day_," Amber agreed. "_We still have a lot of work to do, and maybe being home by the end of the month is a little optimistic, but I don't think it'll take a lot longer than that. We'll keep you informed, of course. We know how important getting rid of Umbrella is to you and Jack. Is school okay? Clarissa said you'd made a new friend._"

"Just one, and I don't think the rest of them like us very much," Lisa confessed.

"_Oh, they'll come round_," said Amber breezily. "_You and Jack are great kids. I can't imagine why anyone could possibly dislike either of you. I bet you'll have plenty of friends by the time we come home. They'll be sorry to see you go, too._"

"Mmm," said Lisa, although she privately disagreed with this prediction. "I hope you're right."

"_Well, even if I'm not, it's only another month or so_," said Amber. "_You can stick this out for a month, right?_"

"Sure," said Lisa. "We'll be fine."

"_That's good. Well, I'd better go, we've got work to do and I don't care what Renée says, we can't afford to spend our entire living allowance on the phone bill. Take care, Lisa. We'll talk to you guys soon, okay?_"

"Okay," said Lisa sleepily. "Bye, Amber."

The phone went dead as Amber hung up, then the dial tone returned. Lisa replaced the phone receiver, got up, and stumbled back down the corridor towards her room.

"Jack?" she called.

"Yeah, Lise?" said an embarrassed-sounding Jack, from the other side of his bedroom door.

"Next time, let me answer the phone, okay?" she called. "Especially if they call us again this late at night, or this early in the morning for that matter. Dr H is right, you're definitely not a mornings person."

"Sorry, Lise… dint recognise Dr H, she sound diff'rent over the phone," said Jack awkwardly. "I dint mean to yell at her. She be okay?"

"She's fine, and so are Renée and Amber. They asked how you were. Anyway, I'm going back to bed. I need the rest of my sleep or I'll be useless in the morning…"


	5. Hello Again

**5: Hello Again**

**Tuesday 13th October, 1998**

It was with some trepidation that Lisa and Jack entered the school building the next morning.

As it transpired, they were right to worry. The moment they stepped through the front doors, Karen appeared from nowhere with her cohorts in tow.

"Hi, Lisa," she said, all smiles. "I was just looking for you. Can we talk?"

Lisa looked around wildly for backup, but found none. Jack was looking just as alarmed as she felt - he could save her from zombies but didn't know how to defend her from a bunch of teenage girls - and there appeared to be no sign of Ellie, so she couldn't expect her new friend to come to the rescue again. It looked like she'd have to handle this one herself.

"Well," said Lisa, desperately trying to think of a polite excuse to turn the offer down. "I'd love to, Karen, but I'm kind of busy right now, and - "

"Oh, it'll only take a minute," said Karen brightly. "Come on, let's find a quiet place to talk. It's so loud out here, you can't even hear yourself _think_."

"Karen, I really have to - " Lisa tried again, but Karen ignored her and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her in the direction of the girls' bathroom while Hazel, Beverley and Leticia trailed after her, chattering loudly amongst themselves. Lisa looked back helplessly to see Jack standing in the corridor, looking utterly bereft as he found himself alone in the crowd.

_Oh no, here we go again…_

xxxxxxxxxx

It was curious that someone who didn't like the rain would happily stand for hours underneath a constant stream of water droplets, Ellie thought. And yet here she was, late for school and still in the shower, watching soapy water trickle down the plughole.

It was okay, though. Everyone at school knew that on Tuesday mornings she had to go to the diabetic clinic in Evervale and wouldn't be in until ten, so she could take her time on Tuesdays.

The shower was Ellie's second-favourite place to think deep thoughts about the world, and it wasn't unknown for her to spend up to an hour there, daydreaming as she stood beneath the flow of water. She said that the hot water helped her think, and this was true, though she sometimes wondered if the chilly bathroom that lay beyond the little cocoon of warmth and steam might be the real reason why she allowed her thoughts to run away with her for so long. Either way, it meant a disgruntled family and a long queue for the bathroom in the mornings, although that was presumably the price one paid for enlightenment.

Ellie scrubbed the rough skin on one elbow with a loofah, a little absent-mindedly. She'd been thinking about yesterday's events all morning, and was half-wondering how the new kids were getting on without her.

Her own first day hadn't been much fun. Will had mistaken her Anarchy t-shirt for real revolutionary fervour and plied her with pamphlets, the Bascaulet twins had tried to sell her a considerable amount of cannabis resin and some little white pills that looked suspiciously like aspirin, Jake had attempted to grope her and been rewarded with a swift kick in the groin… and if all that wasn't bad enough, Karen, Hazel, Leticia and Beverley had been unspeakably vile to her for no reason that she could discern.

To her amazement, Karen and the other girls had caught up with her the next morning to apologise, but had gone on to say in almost the same breath that if she wanted to be their friend, then she'd have to do something about her dress sense, because they "couldn't bear the thought of being associated with anyone who looked that scruffy".

She still couldn't understand why they'd looked so surprised when she'd told them where they could stick their apology. What answer had they been expecting? "Yes please, Karen, I'd love a makeover, I've always wanted to look like a cheap whore so I can be popular too"?

_Yeah, right_, she thought furiously, rinsing out the last of the shampoo from her hair. _Like anybody in their right mind would want to look like them. I just hope Jack and Lisa have enough sense to avoid them…_

xxxxxxxxxx

The door of the girls' bathroom swung shut and the girls immediately fanned out. Beverley and Hazel headed for the toilet cubicles, while Leticia went over to the washbasins and opened up her handbag. She took out a selection of lipsticks, chose one and then stood on tiptoes to see her reflection in the cracked and spotted mirror.

That left Karen and a very uneasy Lisa standing beside the hand-dryers.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?" said Lisa at last, feeling that she might as well get this over with as fast as she could.

"About yesterday," said Karen, toying idly with a loose bead on her bracelet. "We kind of got off to a bad start, and I've been feeling bad about that. I know it must be hard for you because you're new and you don't know anybody."

"That's all right," said Lisa awkwardly, looking down at her feet and wishing herself back outside with Jack.

"Well, not really," said Karen. "I know you don't like us."

Lisa went red.

"I never said that," she mumbled.

"Maybe not, but we can tell you don't like us," said Karen. "I guess that's not surprising. We saw you talking to Eleanor and as you may have noticed, she can't stand the sight of us. She must have told you all sorts of terrible things about us."

Lisa didn't dare respond to this last comment. Comments like that were mousetraps, baited with poison and always ready to catch out the unwary. She wasn't about to fall for that one.

"The thing is," Karen continued, not noticing the glaring omission where Lisa's reply should have been, "Eleanor doesn't really like anyone. She may be showing an interest in you and your boyfriend right now, but when she works out that you're nothing like her, she'll drop you. Sociopaths are only interested in other sociopaths. They don't like normal people like you and me. Have you noticed how she hardly has a nice word to say about anybody?"

"Maybe that's because they never have anything nice to say about her," replied Lisa, still looking down at the grimy bathroom floor tiles beneath her feet.

"And do you know why?" said Karen, raising one neatly-plucked and shaped eyebrow.

Lisa looked up, and shook her head.

"It's because she can't stand anyone who isn't like her," said Karen. "She thinks that we're singling her out for attack because she's foreign, or because she doesn't care about her looks, or some other stupid reason."

"She's paranoid and it makes her totally hostile to everybody else," interrupted Leticia, who was still peering into the mirror. She paused for a moment to finish drawing a cherry-red line of lipstick across her upper lip, then added, "We _tried _to be nice to her, but she just cussed at us and stormed off. I still don't understand why."

"I wouldn't worry about it, Tish," said Karen, with a shrug. "She just doesn't like people like us. I don't know if it's just jealousy, but she thinks we're trying to make everybody like us."

"Aren't you?" said Lisa, before she could stop herself.

Karen simply laughed.

"Why would we do that?" she said lightly. "If we made everyone popular then it wouldn't mean a thing any more. Besides, there's no changing some people, so why waste our time trying to do the impossible? I mean, we could talk to Eleanor all day about how she could make herself the prettiest girl in school with a little make-up, and she'd never listen. She'd probably rather stab herself in the face with that knife she's always carrying than follow our advice."

Lisa privately wondered whether stabbing herself in the face with something would get her out of this room faster. If it meant that she wouldn't have to listen to this surreptitious bad-mouthing, all this spite and viciousness concealed in mild words, then it was all to the good. She had to admit, though, these girls were good at this; she could almost believe that they were in the right.

"There's no helping some people," agreed Leticia, as she started work on her lower lip. "You can lead a horse to school but you can't make it think. I gave up on Eleanor a long time ago. She's a lost cause."

"Shame," said Karen, with a mock sigh. "Still, I don't think she would have made a good friend. Lisa, though… I think you'd make a good friend, Lisa. You seem like a really nice girl."

"Thank you," said Lisa, who could feel her cheeks burning red again.

_I really, really don't want to be here… oh, God, what do they want from me?_

"Yeah. You're polite, you're nice, you have good taste in men," commented Karen. "You know how to dress, too, though I recommend some more accessories, and some make-up. You're too pale. You don't spend enough time in the sun."

"I stay indoors a lot," said Lisa quietly. "It was way too hot this summer."

"We don't ever complain about being too hot up here," said Hazel, emerging gracefully from the cubicle and gliding over to the washbasins, her stiletto heels tapping on the tiles. "The weather in Arklay is _awful_."

"Too cold," agreed Beverley, from inside her cubicle. "And it rains all the time. I almost pity Eleanor, coming from England. I hear it rains all the time there too. I'm amazed she wants to go back."

"Well, I'm not stopping her," said Leticia, pouting into the mirror to check her lipstick. "I'd actually be quite glad to see her go, if it means we won't be _snarled_ at any more. Honestly, she could at least try to be civil instead of biting our heads off whenever we look at her."

"I frankly couldn't care less," said Hazel indifferently. "If she wants to act like a freak, then let her. It's not like we didn't give her a chance to be our friend and at least attempt to fit in like a normal human being. If she didn't want to take it, then that's her problem. She should have known better."

Lisa felt her hands clenching angrily at her sides.

"I'm sure you know better than she does, Lisa," said Karen, changing the subject. "You seemed pretty smart in class yesterday."

"Yeah, I wish she was sitting next to me," laughed Beverley, as she left the cubicle and headed towards a washbasins. "I don't understand what that woman was on about in math class. All that geometry stuff just confuses me."

"Anyway," continued Karen, "we just want you to know that we'd really like you to be our friend. I'm sure you'd like some friends to keep you company here, wouldn't you?"

"But I have friends here," Lisa answered. "I have Jack - and Ellie's my friend too."

"Like I said, Lisa, that's because she thinks she can turn you into her," said Karen, whose voice was starting to take on the manic, slightly desperate edge of a salesman trying to coax a reluctant customer into parting with their cash. "But I'm telling you, you don't want to hang around with her. That girl's nothing but trouble and she'll turn on you in a moment. And surely you want friends that you can rely on, don't you? People like you? People like us?"

"But I'm not like you, Karen," said Lisa, shaking her head. "I'm not like you at all."

Karen's sunny expression clouded over.

"What do you mean?" she said, starting to frown. "You've got a lot more in common with us than with her. Come on, surely you don't actually _agree_ with her, do you? You can't tell me you'd rather be friends with Eleanor than with us."

"Karen," said Lisa, with as much patience as she could summon up, "I don't know what happened to make you and Ellie hate each other so much, but whatever history there is between you, it's none of my business, so please don't get me involved. Ellie's been nothing but kind to me, and I'm not prepared to gang up on her just for the sake of being popular. That's not what I'm about."

The other girls turned to stare at Lisa in astonishment, as if she'd just hit each one of them in the face with a rolled-up newspaper.

"Excuse me?" said Leticia in disbelief. "Are you saying that you prefer _Eleanor _to _us_?"

"You - you actually want to be friends with that weirdo?" said Hazel, who looked utterly outraged. "I _so_ did not just hear that!"

"Look," said Lisa, trying the diplomatic approach, "I'm sure you're nice and everything, but - well, I'm more used to hanging out with people like Ellie and Jack. I don't think I'd fit in with you girls."

"Loyalty is a wonderful thing, Lisa," said Karen, with the firm conviction of someone surrounded constantly by a band of faithful followers, "but I think in this case you'd do well to listen to us. We may not be the types you usually hang out with, but stick with us and you'll always have plenty of friends here in Arklay. Believe me, you're much better off with us than with Eleanor."

Lisa didn't know whether to get angry or laugh out loud at the sheer absurdity of the situation. Karen was actually trying to _coerce _her into being her friend? Nothing except insecurity could come from a "friendship" based on dire threats and intimidation, so what was the point?

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I can't be your friend, Karen."

Turning to leave, she heard a furious whispering break out behind her.

"You're making a big mistake," Karen said sharply.

Lisa turned round again to look at the tall blonde girl. Karen was standing with her arms folded; her cold stare and disapproving scowl indicated that while she didn't care that much about Lisa, she was furious at having been snubbed, and by a social nonentity at that. The looks and stances of her three companions told her exactly the same thing:

_How dare you say no to being our friend! Who are you to refuse us? We don't need you, it's you that needs us - and you'll be sorry for saying you don't. We'll _make _you sorry. You're nobody, Lisa Hartley, and now that you've turned us down, you're going to stay that way…_

"No," said Lisa, after a considerable pause. "No, actually, I don't think I am."

She pulled the door open and stepped outside, breathing out gratefully as she found herself out in the hallway again, free from Karen and her poisonous influence. She overheard a brief snatch of conversation as the door swung shut:

"What's _her _problem?" she heard Leticia say loudly.

"Oh, forget about her, Tish," said Karen dismissively. "Who cares anyway? She's just some snooty uptown girl who probably had a mansion in Raccoon City before it all blew up. Thinks she's too good to hang out with the likes of us."

The door had all but closed, sticking slightly in the ill-fitting wooden frame, but Lisa could still hear the conversation on the other side through the tiny gap that remained. Very cautiously, she pressed her ear close to the door to listen.

"I bet she only wants to be Eleanor's new best friend because she wants to pretend she's all, you know, _alternative_ and stuff," Leticia was saying.

"I bet she'll come crawling right back to us the minute Eleanor sees through it and tells her to get lost," said Beverley.

"Did you see what she was _wearing_?" said Hazel archly.

"And her _hair_!" said Leticia, almost shrieking the last word. "Oh my _God_, I thought I'd die laughing right there and then. She probably hasn't been to a hair salon in years! Long hair may be low-maintenance but it's completely _passé_. Anyone who knows the first thing about fashion wears it shoulder-length now."

"I just love that accent of hers," said Hazel.

She put on an entirely different voice, adopting what she thought was an upper-class Raccoon City accent.

"_But I'm not like you, Karen_," she mimicked, then returned to her usual manner of speaking. "It's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Stuck-up bitch."

"I never liked her anyway," said Leticia scornfully.

"The feeling's mutual," Lisa muttered.

"You know it ain't polite to listen at doors?" murmured a voice in her other ear, and Lisa jumped. She straightened up and saw Jack, grinning, by her side.

"Auntie always used to tell me never to do that," he said. "She say dunt listen at doors 'cause you never know what you gonna hear 'bout youself."

Lisa turned away from the door.

"I've heard enough, that's for sure," she said crossly.

"What'd she want from you, anyway?" asked Jack, as they walked away from the bathroom.

"Oh, they claimed that they'd changed their minds after yesterday and decided that they wanted me to be their new best friend after all," said Lisa.

"Nice of 'em," remarked Jack. "What'd they want in return?"

"Lifetime membership of Team Karen and ditching Ellie for good," said Lisa. "I told them to shove it. Politely, though," she added. "No point in antagonising them even more when they've already decided we're on the wrong side."

"Ah, you shoulda just told 'em to shove it," said Jack.

"Do you really think that's a good idea? I know this is only meant to be temporary, Jack, but we don't really know how long we're going to be here," said Lisa severely. "It's not a good idea to stir things up too much if we might be stuck with the results for a month or more."

"True," conceded Jack. "You prob'ly did the right thing then, Lise."

"I hope so_,_" said Lisa, who was starting to wonder if she had. It hadn't been her intention to start fighting the high school battle all over again, but here she was, on the "wrong" side again. She only hoped that this was the only part of her recent history that she'd end up having to repeat.

xxxxxxxxxx

It was ten o'clock exactly, according to Ellie's watch. She breathed in slowly and pushed open the door.

Eighteen heads bobbed up expectantly, hoping to see something interesting to divert their attention from Geography class, however briefly. When they saw her standing in the door, most looked disappointed and returned glumly to the unrelenting tedium that was glaciation. There were a few death-glares from Karen's little clique, and some almost inaudible comments from Jake that prompted muffled sniggering from Russell and Herb.

"Late again, Eleanor," said Karen loudly. "But of course _you_ always have to make a big entrance, don't you?"

"Get stuffed, Karen," said Ellie, unfazed. "You know perfectly well why I come in late on Tuesdays. And may I say that the extra hour spent well away from your company did me the world of good."

More death-glares from Karen's sidekicks, and the mother of all scowls from Karen herself. Ellie did, however, get a smile from Connor, who was sitting near the back.

"Hi, Ellie," he whispered as she made her way to her seat. "Nice to see you. We're doing Geography, and no, you haven't missed anything."

"Glaciation again?" said Ellie, now resigned to the prospect of forty minutes' worth of boredom.

"Yep," said Connor.

"That explains the icy reception from Karen dearest," said Ellie, rolling her eyes. "Nice to see you too, Connor. What page are we on?"

"104 and 105. Usual book."

"Much obliged."

"How's the band? Still the greatest in the world?"

"Too right it is."

"Really?"

"No, not really. Metal Dave still can't play the drums."

"Oh well. He'll get better one day."

"Well, he'll have to, he can't get any worse…"

"Ellie," said Mrs Blumenthal patiently. "Can you sit down, please? You're disrupting everyone else and you're late as it is. I know it's Tuesday but you're here now, so please get on with your work."

"On my way, Mrs B," said Ellie, who was already squeezing past Jack and Lisa's desks in order to get to her own. "Sorry guys, don't mind me…"

"Where have you been?" murmured Lisa.

"I had to go to the clinic in Evervale to see the doctor and pick up my insulin," Ellie said, more quietly. "I go every Tuesday morning, but Evervale's a half-hour drive through the mountains and the return trip's just as bad, so I don't end up getting into school until ten. Still, at least it keeps me away from this dump for a bit longer. Have I missed anything interesting?"

"You could say that," said Lisa, and she explained about the incident in the girls' bathroom.

Ellie listened, smiling very faintly to herself in a way that had nothing at all to do with satisfaction.

"Hmm," she said at last. "So she gave you the "join me or die" talk, did she? Well, I can't say I'm surprised. She tried exactly the same thing on me the day after I got here. Typical of her to pick the very morning she knew I wouldn't be around to help you. Scheming bitch. Mind you," she added, "I don't think you really needed my help on this one. It looks like you've put her nose right out of joint all on your own."

"I didn't mean to upset her," said Lisa, rather guiltily.

"I wouldn't worry about that, Lisa," said Ellie. "No matter what you do or say around here, you'll invariably end up upsetting somebody. Personally, I'd be more worried about what Karen's going to do now that someone else has stood up to her too."

"What do you mean?" said Lisa.

"I mean that it was okay when it was just me around, because I was the eccentric English weirdo and she was happy to spend her time either ignoring or belittling me," said Ellie. "I was barely an ant at her picnic. But now there's more than one person who isn't on her side… well…"

She grimaced.

"I dunt get it," said Jack, frowning. "Why'd that bother her? Three people 'gainst the rest of the class ain't gonna hurt her, right?"

"I'm not sure she'd see it like that, Jack," said Ellie carefully. "You see, "odd one out" only works when there's one of you. More than that is probably an upward trend, and she's not going to be happy about that at all. She thinks it's her job to set the trends around here - not mine, and definitely not yours."

"She think we gonna muscle in on her territory, huh?" said Jack.

"That's exactly what she's going to think," agreed Ellie. "And now that there's unwanted competition around, she's going to do her very best to stamp it out. Don't get me wrong, Lisa, I have nothing but praise for you for standing up for your principles, but you'd better watch yourself - from now on, she and her friends are going to do their very best to make your life a living hell until you either join them or jump off the roof."

"I have no intention of doing either," said Lisa firmly.

"The road to a living hell is paved with "no intentions"," said Ellie, with a wan smile. "I just hope for your sake that you really do get to leave Arklay in a month. God only knows how this'll turn out if you stay much longer than that."

"Surely it's not going to be that bad?" said Lisa, who was starting to look faintly alarmed by this prediction.

"Maybe not," said Ellie. "But all the same, be careful."

_Who knows,_ she thought, watching Lisa return to her work. _Maybe things are going to change around here after all…_

xxxxxxxxxx

There were a few more girls here today, Lisa noticed, and all of them were shy, pale imitations of Karen and her friends. Mouse-brown and dirty blonde, not quite pretty and trying just a little too hard to be fashionable, they tagged along with Karen, Hazel, Beverley and Leticia, hanging eagerly on their every word and giggling obediently whenever their idols made a snide comment about somebody.

Lisa recognised the type only too well. Groupies, every single one of them; basking in the popularity of others, desperate to be popular too, even if it was only by association. She wondered if it was a genuine desire to be just like the people they professed to admire, or the kind of fan-worship born of fear and the vain hope that if they were just like Karen and her friends, then maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't be bullied and gossiped about and publicly humiliated.

"Who are _they_?" she whispered.

"The fan club," said Ellie, with just a hint of irony. "Carla, Hannah and Andrea. They've been away for about a week. Some sort of musical audition in the next state, I think. I was rather hoping that they weren't coming back, but no such luck."

"A musical audition?" said Lisa curiously.

"Yeah," said Ellie. "Not sure what it was for. Don't know why they bothered, really. I've heard them belting out Top Ten hits on the way to class and it's like listening to a boy band being tortured with household appliances."

"That good, huh?" said Jack, with a smirk.

"The only thing _they__'__re_ good at is making the music teacher wish he was deaf," said Ellie. "Granted, I'm not exactly a diva myself, but even singing like mine doesn't cause actual physical pain. Hannah's rendition of the national anthem can make dogs bark three streets away and Carla's singing ought to be banned by the Geneva Convention. If music class with her isn't cruel and unusual punishment, I don't know what is."

Lisa saw Karen glance quickly at one of the groupies before making some sort of scathing comment to those assembled. The others shrilled with laughter; the groupie that had obviously borne the brunt of the joke contrived to laugh too, but there was no mistaking the look of hurt and betrayal on her face.

_How could she say something like that about me? _the girl's expression seemed to say. _Why would she do that? I__'__m her friend, aren__'__t I?_

Lisa felt instantly sorry for her. She'd been like that once, after Charlotte disappeared. She hadn't accompanied Julie and the others out of friendship; it was more like protective camouflage, blending in with the people around her to avoid being singled out for attack. If Jack hadn't come along and changed everything, she would probably be doing exactly the same thing now - if she was still even alive, of course.

"Poor girl," she murmured.

"Why?" said Ellie, who was walking alongside her.

"She thinks hanging around with Karen will stop her from getting picked on, but they're treating her just the same way as everyone else," said Lisa. "Maybe worse. That's so sad."

"Don't feel sorry for her, Lisa. Hannah deserves everything she gets," said Ellie, unmoved.

"What?" said Lisa. "You can't tell me anyone _deserves _to get picked on?"

"Maybe not, but you look at her again and tell me what you see," said Ellie.

Lisa looked back at the girl. The expression of hurt had vanished without trace; but to Lisa's dismay, the girl didn't appear to have learned anything from this experience. On the contrary, she was now making a snide remark about a shy-looking eighth-grade girl, who went red and then started to cry.

Lisa was almost speechless.

"She gets insulted and she knows it hurts, but she doesn't even _try _to stop it?" she said in absolute astonishment. "She just joins in and - "

"And picks on someone even lower in the pecking order than she is," Ellie finished the sentence, and nodded knowingly. "Yes, that's how it works around here. She's just as much of a bully as Karen is, though compared to Her Royal Bitchiness, Hannah's not much more than a small-time spoilt brat. Still on the level of hair-pulling and pushing over smaller children in the playground. No, that contemptible little wretch doesn't deserve your pity, Lisa, and she won't be getting any from me either. Not until she's learned to play nicely."

Jack looked over at Lisa, who looked utterly shocked, and he shook his head sadly. One thing that he'd always loved about Lisa was her wide-eyed, childlike innocence, but it was already clear to him that she'd have to grow up quickly if she was going to last more than five minutes in this place. He could only wonder how clear it was to her…

"Can we go outside?" said Ellie suddenly. "I could really do with a smoke. Seeing those bloody sheep in action does my head in, it really does."

"Um… sure," said Lisa. "We've got a few minutes till the next class."

"Suits me," said Ellie, who was already rooting through her backpack. She took out her lighter and an open pack of cigarettes, and clutched them tightly until they got outside.

It wasn't raining, but the skies were a dull grey and there was a chill in the wind that seemed to seep right into their bones. Ellie shivered as she cupped her hands, shielding the lighter's little flame from the wind.

"Cold out today," she commented, placing the lit cigarette between her lips.

Jack nodded.

"Yeah. It snows up here a lot in the winter, right?"

"Uh-huh," said Ellie. "Probably won't start for another few weeks, but it's been known to come early. I'd say it usually starts snowing towards the end of October, mid-November at the very latest. Snowy season normally lasts till April."

"Ouch," said Jack.

"Don't like snow?" said Ellie, blowing out a stream of smoke that was instantly whipped away by the wind.

"Hate it," said Jack.

"I liked it when I was little, because it hardly ever snowed at home," said Ellie. "But I have to admit, the novelty's worn off now. It's still better than the rain, mind. With London and Arklay combined, I've seen enough rain to last a lifetime."

Lisa stared off into the distance, only half-listening to the conversation. The morning's events had been few but they were troubling her; she couldn't help thinking about the bathroom incident, and what Ellie had said about being careful. Then there was that girl, the one that had reminded her of the bad old days with Julie…

"You all right?"

Lisa looked up to see Ellie watching her, with raised eyebrows and faint concern on her face.

"I'm fine," she said. "I was just thinking. About that girl we saw in the corridor. I - well, I still feel a little sorry for her, even though I probably shouldn't. I used to be like that once."

She'd anticipated Ellie's reaction well in advance, including the initial surprise, the sudden scowl and the slight narrowing of the eyes. She wasn't disappointed with the lowering of the metaphorical temperature, either.

"You used to hang around with the popular girls," said Ellie flatly. "The bitchy ones that were always mean to the kids who didn't fit in?"

Lisa suddenly felt about six inches tall, but she nodded anyway.

"Yes."

Ellie's lips thinned in disapproval, pressing tightly against the cigarette in her mouth.

"You mean you were one of them?" she said, eventually removing the cigarette and holding it between her left thumb and index finger. "Bullying other kids, bitching about your so-called "friends" behind their backs, spreading rumours and total lies about people you didn't like? Making people utterly miserable just for kicks?"

"No," said Lisa softly. "No, I never did that. I hated that stuff. It's not right to be cruel to people."

"But did you do anything about it?" said Ellie.

"Yes, I did!" said Lisa fiercely. "I told them it wasn't right to hurt people like that and I stuck up for the people they were mean to! What they were doing was wrong. I told them that all the time."

"Did they ever listen to you, though?" said Ellie, flicking some ash from the end of her cigarette and then placing it between her lips again.

"No," said Lisa, sighing. "No, they never listened. The only time they ever paid much attention to me was when I made friends with Jack. They _hated _him, especially when they thought I liked him better than them. They couldn't stand seeing me choose a downtown kid over them, even though he was my only real friend."

"Then why did you cosy up to them in the first place?" said Ellie.

"Because there was nobody else," said Lisa, swallowing the lump in her throat. "My best friend died and I didn't really like the other girls in my class, but I was… well, I guess I was just too shy to tell them no…"

Lisa did her best to explain her predicament. Ellie's face slowly unfroze, the cold stare defrosting and the frown melting away like snow in the sunshine.

"So you were all alone? Afraid of being singled out even more? Felt like you had no choice but to blend in?" she said, sounding almost sympathetic now.

Lisa nodded unhappily.

Ellie stubbed out her cigarette on the wall behind her, then smiled suddenly and patted Lisa consolingly on the shoulder with her free hand.

"Then I wouldn't worry about it," she said. "At least you tried. And to be honest, I never had you down as the evil cheerleader type. You care too much."

Lisa smiled faintly. Ellie grinned, and flicked the cigarette butt away.

"Just don't scare me like that again, all right?" she said. "I honestly thought you had some sort of horrible secret past when you sprung that one on me. You frightened the life out of me."

Jack - who had wisely stayed out of the previous exchange, fearing accusations of treachery on both sides - suddenly looked deeply uncomfortable. Lisa felt no less awkward. After all, they both had Raccoon City deeply ingrained into their memories, along with all the horrors that it had contained. If that wasn't a horrible secret past, then what was?

_We're not going to talk about our past,_ _though, _she thought, hoping that the look on her face would be enough to convey this message to Jack._ They heard that teacher mention we were from Raccoon City, but they probably think we left long before things turned really bad and then ended up with no home to go back to. They don't know any different and we're not going to tell them, right, Jack?_

Jack's own expression said it all in a single instant:

_Right. An' if they ask, we tell 'em a pack of lies. No point in tellin' 'em a truth they never gonna believe. We should prob'ly be tryin' to forget this stuff an' start over, 'stead of makin' more trouble for ourselves. An' why bother confidin' in anybody here when we gonna be leavin' in a month anyway?_

"All right then, we'd better get back to class, or Mrs B'll have our heads," said Ellie, rubbing her arms. "It's freezing out here anyway."

"We have French next, don't we?" said Lisa, glad that things were back to normal again.

"Sadly, yes," said Ellie. "_Moi, j'ai horreur des langues étrangères… trop des devoirs…"_

They went inside, closing the door behind them. Ellie overtook Jack and Lisa before long, walking ahead with such long strides that they soon abandoned their efforts to keep up with her and trailed behind instead.

"Hiya, Shazza! How'd it go at the dentist's?" Ellie called, waving to a girl further down the corridor.

"Bloody awful, Ellz," came the reply, in an unmistakable Australian accent. "More fillings again. My mouth still feels numb but I know it's gonna hurt like hell in a few hours. I would've stayed at home but my mum an' dad made me come in for the rest of the… day…"

The rest of her sentence drifted off into nothing, and now the girl was staring at Jack and Lisa in shock - no, in absolute _horror_, as though she'd seen a ghost. Jack and Lisa stared back, unable to believe the sight that met their eyes.

The girl was slightly taller than Lisa, with frizzy brown hair and a very familiar face. She was wearing a pair of old, worn sneakers, faded blue jeans and an AC/DC t-shirt, with a grimy Billabong backpack thrown casually over her shoulder. Her dark brown eyes were large and frightened, and she was trembling all over.

She was slightly paler and thinner than they remembered, and the wide grin and mischievous glint in her eyes had gone, but there was still no mistaking her.

"Maddy…?" said Jack hesitantly.

The girl went white, then turned and ran for the classroom. Perplexed by this reaction, Jack and Lisa turned back to Ellie, hoping for some kind of explanation for the girl's strange behaviour. However, Ellie appeared none the wiser.

"Don't know what's got into her," she said, sounding surprised. "Normally Shazza likes meeting new people. What did you say to her to make her run off like that?"

"Nothin'," said Jack at last. "Thought she look like somebody I know once, 's all. Dunt know why she hadda run off like that, though. Why'd she look so scared when she see us?"

"No idea. She's been a little quiet since Raccoon City got blown up, but I thought she was coping pretty well, considering her cousin died from that mystery virus," said Ellie.

Lisa had been thinking hard during this conversation, and after a short pause, she said:

"What did you say that girl's name was, Ellie?"

"Her name's Sharon Baker," Ellie replied. "Everyone calls her Shazza. She's from Australia, somewhere around the Melbourne area. She and her family came to America to stay with relatives after their house was destroyed in a brush fire, but they moved out of Raccoon City as soon as they first heard about the big outbreak. Some of the family stayed behind and they all died from the disease. Her cousin Madeleine was one of the people who died, and Shazza was pretty upset about it. She and Maddy were really close."

Lisa risked a sideways glance at Jack. He was shaking his head slowly; it was plain to see that he didn't believe a word.

"Anyway, come on, we're late as it is," said Ellie, taking them both by the arm and pulling them after her. "If we stand around here all day, we'll miss French and what a _tragedy _that would be…"

As Ellie led the way back to the classroom again, Jack leaned over to Lisa and said under his breath:

"Maddy dint have any cousins livin' here. I know, she used to talk to me 'bout her family in Australia all the time. The only people from her family over here be her an' her parents an' brother. Shazza dunt exist, Lise. We just see Maddy right now, an' I dunt know why, but she ain't happy to see us…"

"I thought she was dead," whispered Lisa.

"I guess she could say the same 'bout us," Jack replied. "But you remember when we find Marco by the hospital an' I ask him where Maddy be? He tell us he dint know where she be, 'cause nobody see her for days."

"She and her family must have left the city before it got locked down," said Lisa. "That, or they managed to get out on their own somehow."

"But if she survive Raccoon City, why she be lyin' 'bout her name here?" said Jack. "An' why dunt she wanna talk to me?"

"I really don't know, Jack," said Lisa. "I have to admit, it is pretty weird. And I know it's not a case of mistaken identity. That's definitely her."

"Yeah, that be Maddy all right," agreed Jack. "But why she be so scared of us?"

"We could try talking to her after school today," suggested Lisa. "Maybe she was just startled to see us because she thought we were dead all this time. I bet once she gets over the shock, she'll be really happy to see you again."

xxxxxxxxxx

Nothing much happened for the rest of the day, although Jack spotted "Shazza" sitting right at the front of the class. Once or twice he received a wary glance from the girl, but she always seemed to be facing the front again when he tried to make eye contact with her.

When afternoon classes finally finished, Jack and Lisa bid a hasty goodbye to Ellie so that they could catch up with Shazza, who had already packed away her things and hurried out into the corridor.

They quickly spotted the girl's retreating back and tried to follow her, but the hallway was packed with chattering students, none of whom were in a hurry to go anywhere. To make matters worse, not one of them seemed willing to move aside or give even an inch of space to anyone trying to get past, and it wasn't long before Jack and Lisa lost sight of their target again.

"Can you see her?" said Jack urgently, as he struggled past a pair of drama students carrying a large and unwieldy hamper of costumes.

"No," said Lisa, whose politeness and natural reluctance to push her way through a crowd meant that she had fallen some way behind her boyfriend. "I think we've lost her, Jack - no, wait, there she is!"

"Where?" cried Jack.

"Over there, by the door!" said Lisa, pointing, and they saw the girl's figure briefly outlined in the doorway at the corridor's end.

"Come on, we gonna lose her!" yelled Jack, running back to grab Lisa's hand and pulling her through the crowd, ignoring all protests from passers-by and from Lisa herself.

By the time they'd made their way through the obstacle course of students, open lockers, and a floor made treacherous by people's backpacks and carelessly discarded test papers, the girl was already at the other end of the yard. Jack almost tripped down the steps in his haste to follow her, but Lisa caught him just in time and together they hurried across the yard.

They were well past the school gates now, with Shazza well in sight. Now that there was little prospect of losing her again, they felt it was safe to slow down to a walk.

"Hey, Maddy!" Jack yelled after her.

With a single, terrified glance over her shoulder, the girl's pace quickened, then she broke into a run. Jack ran after her and Lisa, slightly out of breath now, did the same.

"Maddy!" Jack called after the girl. "Maddy, wait up!"

The girl kept running, as though the spectre of death itself was following her; she was extremely fast and could easily have outrun Lisa, but Jack eventually managed to catch up with her and he grabbed her by the shoulder.

"Leave me alone!" yelled the girl, turning round and shoving Jack roughly in the chest, pushing him away from her.

"Maddy?" said Jack, blinking. "But - "

"_Don't call me that!_" the girl shouted. "Don't ever call me that again! I'm not Maddy! My name's Sharon now! Look, I know we used to be friends, Jack, but I don't want to talk to you any more, so just leave me alone, all right?"

"But why?" said Jack, looking hurt. "I dunt understand… why dunt you wanna be my friend no more?"

"You're meant to be dead, Jack!" insisted Maddy angrily. "Just like the others! I thought I was the only one left an' I cried about it for a long time, but when Raccoon City blew up, I thought I could leave my old life behind an' start over here! But now you're here, actin' like nothin' happened an' everythin' is just the way it was! Well it _isn't_, Jack! How dare you act like it is! How dare you still be alive when all the others are dead!"

"Hey, I just be glad to see you 'gain," protested Jack. "Why you actin' like you hate me all of a sudden? C'mon, I know the others be gone now, but we can still be friends, right…?"

He took a step towards her but Maddy retreated, with anger flashing in her eyes.

"Get away from me!" she yelled. "You're bad luck, Jack! As soon as you arrived in Raccoon City, everythin' started goin' wrong! Romeo Pagliuca never stole anythin' till you showed up! I reckon he never stole anythin' at all! You probably did it all along!"

"I dint steal nothin'!" argued Jack. "I dunt care what bullshit Romeo tell you, it ain't the truth! That lyin' son of a bitch be the one who swiped that lady's bag an' Marco an' Batman see him do it!"

"Batman was madder than cut snakes an' Marco would've said the sky was green if you'd told him to!" Maddy shot back. "He was your best mate an' I still don't know why he liked you so much! You caused us nothin' but trouble with the cops, you got Romeo kicked out of the Street Rats, an' then on top of all that, you saw the Dark Skater! A death omen! You brought it all on us, Jack! Raccoon City would probably still be there now if it wasn't for you!"

"Now wait a minute!" Lisa exclaimed. "How can you possibly blame that on him? What they said in the newspapers about the STARS was true! Umbrella _was_ responsible for the outbreak - we saw their experiments with our own eyes!"

"Yeah, Maddy, it _ain't _all lies in the newspapers!" Jack said indignantly. "We see everythin' an' I almost die 'cause some monster try to kill me!"

"Good! I wish it had finished you off!" Maddy snarled. "You ruined my life, Jack! I don't care what anyone says, it's all your fault the Street Rats are dead! An' I never bloody liked you anyway!"

She tried to run away but Jack grabbed her by the arm.

"Wait!" he said desperately. "Please, just listen to me!"

"Let me go, you bastard!" Maddy shrieked, twisting out of his grasp and picking up the backpack that she'd dropped on the ground.

"Maddy, I just - " Jack began, then cried out as Maddy's backpack caught him full in the face. The force of the blow knocked him backwards off his feet, but a startled Lisa managed to catch him before he hit the ground.

"_Piss off!_"

Maddy sprinted away, and this time she didn't bother looking back. Lisa helped the shaken Jack to his feet and they both stared at the departing Maddy in amazement. Their world had clearly changed even more than they thought it had - but why had one of Jack's closest friends turned on him so suddenly? Surely even a zombie outbreak couldn't have done that?

"Oh, man," said Jack quietly. "What the hell happen to her, Lise? Maddy never used to be like that… we always be real good friends, an' I know that dint change even after I see that skater ghost. But now she be actin' like she hate the sight of me. Why?"

Lisa didn't even know if there was an answer to that question. She just took Jack's hand in hers and squeezed it for reassurance, privately wondering why the world had changed and why everything about their lives had suddenly become so complicated.


	6. Ruffled Feathers

**6: Ruffled Feathers**

**Tuesday 20th October, 1998**

For the past week, Maddy had been avoiding them. Every time Jack tried to get her attention, she'd suddenly be very busy, or on her way somewhere else. She wouldn't talk to him, look him in the eye, or even go anywhere near him if she could help it.

Maddy's outburst had hurt Jack deeply, not least because she'd never shown any sign of disliking him before. The Maddy he knew had always spoken her mind; if she'd really hated him, she would surely have told him so long ago, and in no uncertain terms. He'd put her reaction down to the shock of seeing him still alive, and had assumed that she'd want to apologise and be friends again the next day.

But the reconciliation that he'd hoped for hadn't happened. Every attempt that he'd made to talk to her had been pointedly ignored. This had hurt even more than being yelled at and pushed away; his old friend's silence was intolerable. He desperately wished that she would say something to him, _anything_, even it was just a few kind words and a hello. Even cruel words would have done, he thought. At least it would make him feel as though he existed to her, that he wasn't some kind of ghost of Raccoon City's past that only Lisa and Ellie could see.

It just didn't seem fair. After all that they'd been through together, Amber, Renée and Dr H were the ones far away in Europe carrying out an excitingly hazardous mission - while he and Lisa, the ones who'd saved their lives, were stuck here in a school full of people who didn't want them around, in a dull little town where it always seemed to be raining.

_But only for a couple more weeks,_ he reminded himself, pushing textbooks into his bag. _Three more weeks, an' we gonna be outta here for good._

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, expecting Lisa's gentle smile, or perhaps a reminder from Ellie that class was about to start, coupled with a cheerfully disparaging comment about the class in question. However, it wasn't Lisa or Ellie standing in front of him, but an unhappy-looking Maddy. She still didn't seem to want to look him directly in the eye, but yesterday she hadn't wanted to look at him at all, so this was a definite improvement.

"Hiya, Jack," she said, shifting uncomfortably. "Um… can we talk?"

"Sure," said Jack, trying to sound casual and unconcerned, when in fact he couldn't have been happier. "What you wanna talk 'bout?"

Maddy glanced once at Lisa, who was putting some textbooks from the previous class back in her locker. She didn't appear to have noticed Maddy's presence, but Maddy seemed about to take no chances. She quietly led Jack a little way down the hall, just out of Lisa's earshot, and said:

"I - I just wanted to say sorry. 'Bout what happened last week. I meant to apologise before, but I was too embarrassed to say anythin'. That's why I've been avoidin' you."

"Hey, dunt worry 'bout it!" said Jack quickly. "Really, 's okay."

"I didn't mean what I said, you know," Maddy continued. Her pale cheeks were starting to turn pink with shame. "I don't hate you, Jack. I never hated you. You were one of my best mates an' I cried for days when I thought you an' the others were dead. To tell you the truth, I was just scared you'd be angry with me for leavin' you an' the others, 'cause I know Street Rats stick together. I didn't want to go but my mum an' dad said we had to, 'cause of the virus, an' they wouldn't let me stay…"

She rubbed the back of her neck.

"An'… well, after I thought I'd lost all my mates, I tried to start over and make friends here. Everyone here's really suspicious of anyone from Raccoon City, 'cause of the outbreak, an' I spent a lot of time just tryin' to reassure them that I wasn't infected, that things only got really bad there after I left. I dunno how many lies I must've told just to cover my back, but after a while it worked an' I thought hey, it's okay now, nobody'll ever know any different. Then you showed up an' I panicked, 'cause I was scared you might let somethin' slip to the others 'bout my old life, an' then I'd be finished."

"Ma- _Sharon,_" Jack corrected himself hastily. "I ain't gonna tell 'em nothin', I promise. You be called Sharon now, just like you tell me. You ain't Maddy no more, I know, an' I ain't gonna tell 'em no diff'rent."

"Jack - "

"Lise an' I be tryin' to start 'gain here too. We know how you feel right now, but it gonna be okay. Maddy might be dead but I can still be friends with her cousin, right?" said Jack hopefully.

Maddy shook her head.

"No," she said, and looked down so that she wouldn't have to see the disappointment in Jack's face. "I'm sorry, Jack, I really am, but I can't be your friend any more. Things've changed now. _I've _changed. An' it won't ever be the same without the others, no matter how much we try an' pretend we're not missin' 'em. It still hurts too much bein' without 'em, an' it'd only make it worse if we tried to be best mates again. Maybe one day that'll change an' we can start over, but right now, without the others… it just doesn't feel right, an' that's the truth of it. Right now I'm best off bein' Sharon Baker, an' you're best off bein' whoever you wanna be now that the Street Rats are gone."

Jack could feel his throat tightening, and the familiar hot feeling of tears welling up in his eyes. He wasn't about to give in and cry, though, no matter how much it hurt him to do this. He swallowed, bit his lower lip hard, and said:

"All right. You be Sharon, an' I be a new classmate of hers called Jack. An' we never have this conversation, 'cause we ain't got nothin' to discuss, 'specially 'bout some shared past of ours that dint exist. Just… just dunt forget how we used to be friends."

Maddy smiled, very weakly. She looked like she was trying not to cry too.

"I won't," she said. "You were a good mate, Jack. An' 'cause you always meant a lot to me, I'd better warn you that people here aren't sure whether zombies really do exist. Some of 'em believe it an' some of 'em don't, an' some do but don't want to. But what they all believe in is that virus, an' that everyone who was in Raccoon City died. You probably won't get much of a warm welcome here if you talk too much 'bout where you're from, or what happened to the city, so don't mention your past unless you have to. An' if you have to, make most of it up, like me. It's the only way you'll survive."

"Okay," said Jack. "Thanks."

There was a very long pause as both of them tried to work out what to say next.

"How's your aunt?" said Maddy timidly. "She must be findin' it hard to adjust up here. She always said she didn't like the cold much."

Jack was about to yell at her for her insensitivity when he remembered that Aunt Rosa had still been alive when Maddy left the city. Of course she wouldn't have known…

"Aunt Rosa dint make it out," he said, lowering his head. "She got infected a coupla days after you left."

Maddy's hand flew to her mouth in horror.

"'s all right," mumbled Jack, as she stammered an apology. "No way you coulda known."

"So you must be stayin' with Lisa's parents?" said Maddy, once she'd recovered from the news.

Jack shook his head.

"Dead," he said. "Both of 'em. Neither of us got a family no more."

"Then - who's lookin' after you?" said Maddy, taken aback.

"Friends," said Jack. "Coupla survivors we met on our way out of town. We all look after each other. They… hadda go away for a while, out of the country. Business, you know. But one of 'em got an apartment here, an' she tell us we can stay there till they get back. We prob'ly ain't gonna be here that long."

"Well, at least you've got someone lookin' out for you," said Maddy, looking slightly relieved.

"Yeah."

The conversation stalled again, and this time Jack really couldn't think of anything to say.

"So you're with Lisa now, huh?" said Maddy at last, almost wistfully.

"Yeah," said Jack, and felt inexplicably grateful to his old friend for coming up with something to break the silence.

"I'm glad you two got together in the end," she said, and now there was a faint hint of the old Maddy's wicked grin in her smile. "I always thought you'd make a good couple."

"Yeah," said Jack, looking across the corridor at Lisa. "I guess we do."

"Well, I'd better go," said Maddy, turning away. "Take care of yourself, Jack. Have a nice life."

"You too… Sharon," said Jack, as she walked away, and felt the terrible sense of loss creeping back again. Now that Maddy wasn't Maddy any more, the Street Rats really were dead. The sudden, awful loneliness and the thought of being the only remaining member of the gang that had once been his second family were almost more than he could bear.

"Jack? Are you all right?" said Lisa, coming up behind him and putting her hand on his shoulder.

Jack sniffed, and rubbed his watering eyes.

"'s over, Lise," he said aloud. "Nothin' left of Raccoon City now. Maddy ain't Maddy no more an' I be the last Street Rat still standin'. Everythin' from our old life, 's all gone, every last bit of it."

Lisa hugged him.

"I know," she said. "But it's all right, Jack. We've only got a few more weeks here and then we'll see Amber and Renée and Dr H again, and they can take us somewhere else. Maybe we could even go to San Francisco and look for your dad. He must be coming out of jail soon, right?"

"I think so," said Jack, brightening just a little. "You know, Lise, you be right. Guess we ain't so alone after all - "

There was some sort of commotion further down the corridor. They turned round at the sound of a crash, which was followed immediately by gales of laughter. It didn't come entirely as a surprise to find that it was Ellie at the centre of attention, although they certainly hadn't expected to see her staring at the inside of her locker, clutching the life-sized inflatable doll that had just fallen out of it and looking utterly speechless.

"Wow, I never figured she was _that_ desperate for company," said Jake, smirking, as he and the other two jocks passed by.

Herb and Russell both laughed, and so did some of the other bystanders, who had learned long ago that laughing at Jake Maddigan's jokes was a good survival trait. Ellie still looked rather taken aback by the situation, as most people do when pushed unexpectedly into the spotlight, but she rallied magnificently.

"Well, what do you know, everybody? Looks like I've found a friend," she said, putting her arm around the doll's shoulders and grinning widely. "I think I'll call her Barbara. She's not much of a conversationalist, but she's a really good listener!"

"Great at parties, too!" pitched in someone else.

"Yeah, but she can't hold her drink and she's crap at pool," said Ellie, grinning again. "Nice girl, though, our Barbara. She's a real party animal. Never says no to a good time. Just don't ask her to play darts!"

There was more laughter, rather louder this time. The students of Arklay High might have been too scared to contradict Jake Maddigan, but they liked a good show, as long as it was someone else risking a beating from the school bully for hijacking his comedy routine. Fortunately, Jake and his companions had already moved on, not realising that the laughter they'd left behind them was no longer at their victim's expense.

The bell rang and the crowd gradually dispersed, with a few students still chuckling to themselves as they left the scene. When Ellie finally saw Jack and Lisa through the clearing crowd, she nodded amiably to them.

"Hey guys, meet Barbara," she said, gesturing to the doll. "Between you and me, she's a bit of an airhead, but even though there's absolutely nothing between her ears, she's _still_ more intelligent than Jake Maddigan and friends, who think that putting a blow-up doll in someone's locker is about as good as comedy gets. Idiots."

She closed her locker and glared at it, as if it was to blame for all the woes in her life.

"Uh, Ellie? You're not taking that into class, right?" said Lisa.

Ellie looked at the doll, grinned, and looked at Lisa again.

"What? Nah, of course not. I don't think Barbara would appreciate the finer points of Shakespearean tragedies. No, I think I'll put her in Herb Grover's locker for a bit. He looks like he could do with the company."

She headed over to what was presumably Herb's locker, with the inflatable doll under one arm.

"Don't wait for me, I'll be along in a minute," she told them. "You two go back to class and I'll catch you up."

"What about you?"

"I'll say I went to the nurse's office for my insulin or something. Go on, or you'll both be late and I'll have to think of excuses for you too," said Ellie impatiently. "If someone sees us and starts asking awkward questions, like why three tenth-graders are hanging around in the corridor with an inflatable woman named Barbara when they should be in class, I'd really rather not have to come up with an answer - at least, one that I wouldn't mind explaining to my own mother."

"Okay, we see you later," said Jack, who in some respects was much quicker on the uptake than Lisa, and he grabbed his slightly puzzled-looking girlfriend by the arm. "Come _on,_ Lise."

"Yes, all right, Jack," sighed Lisa, following him; it was that or let him get away with her left arm. "But what did she mean, one she wouldn't mind explaining - "

She stopped.

"Oh, I get it," she said suddenly, and giggled. "Oh dear… poor Ellie! Imagine finding something like that in your locker. I think I'd die of embarrassment if that happened to me."

"Better hope it ain't you turn next then, Lise," said Jack lightly.

"That's not funny, Jack," said Lisa, with a small frown.

"Hey, I ain't laughin'," said Jack. "The more embarrassed you get by pranks like that, the more Jake an' his _amigos_ gonna think you be great to try 'em out on. They think it ain't funny if the other person can just make a bigger joke out of it, like Ellie can. But if you make a fuss then they think hey, great, real funny, an' then they try it 'gain an' 'gain just to see you freak out."

Lisa sighed.

"I hate high school."

"Join the club, Lise," came Jack's reply right away. "They got free jackets an' a bumper sticker."

"But do they have free pens?" said Lisa, with a little smile.

"They prob'ly got a whole damn warehouse full of merchandise, Lise," said Jack. "Everybody who ain't popular hates high school, an' there ain't as many popular people as you'd think. Just be strange how lonely you feel when you ain't popular, 'cause you know there oughta be plenty more people just like you, but whenever you look for 'em, they dunt seem to be there. 's just you, all on you own, with the whole world 'gainst you."

"I bet t-shirts would sell like hot cakes," said Lisa, who'd been quietly contemplating the idea of genuine "I Hate High School" merchandise. "Maybe we should design some. I bet we'd both be rich in a week. What do you think we could put on the front?"

Jack wasted no time in putting in a suggestion.

"High School - Come For The Classes, Stay For The Popularity Contest!" he said in perky but sarcastic tones, and put on a bright, fake smile that faded again almost as quickly as it had appeared.

Lisa smiled, rather sadly. Jack's impersonation of Julie in what she couldn't help thinking of as "cheerleader mode" had been spot on. It reminded her of why she'd never liked the girl much, although deep down she knew that _nobody _deserved to be eaten alive, no matter what they'd done.

She still felt guilty, sometimes, about not having done more to save the people at her birthday party. In a strange sort of way, she missed the people who hadn't really been her friends, though how much of that was really missing her old classmates and how much was guilt, or maybe just nostalgia for the days when life had been normal and an awful lot simpler, she didn't really know.

"Tell it like it is, Jack," she said, half to herself, as they headed back to class. "Tell it like it is…"

xxxxxxxxxx

"Well, that wasn't so bad," said Ellie, much later. "I mean, she didn't shout much. Not really. I thought she was going to go _mental _when I forgot my proper excuse and said I'd been to the dentist by mistake."

"Me too," said Lisa. "Nobody goes to the dentist for ten minutes."

"Not when it takes ten minutes just to get there," agreed Ellie. "Never mind, extra homework never killed anybody. And I don't have band practice after school, so I can get it all done tonight."

"Lucky, really," said Lisa.

"I wouldn't go _that _far," said Ellie, with a rather severe look at Lisa. "But I suppose it could have been worse."

"So what'd Herb say when he open his locker?" said Jack, no longer able to contain his curiosity.

"Oh, _lots _of things," said Ellie, grinning wickedly. "None of them suitable for polite company. Funniest thing I've seen in a long time."

"And there was me thinking that it wasn't funny to put something like that in somebody's locker," teased Lisa.

"Of course it isn't," said Ellie, completely unabashed. "But plenty of other people beg to differ, and I do love to see an idiot get a taste of his own medicine. Maybe now he'll have learned that it isn't so funny to get laughed at, although I never was much of a wishful thinker."

"Jake gonna be pretty mad 'bout you makin' a fool of his _amigo _in public, though, ain't he?" said Jack.

"Shouldn't think so," said Ellie. "Our Jake has a very unsophisticated sense of humour. He's just as willing to laugh at a friend's misfortune as he is when someone he doesn't like gets into trouble. And if it does make him angry, well, too bad for him. All I can say is that what goes around, comes around."

Lisa cast an idle glance over her shoulder as they walked down the corridor, and was met with the very unwelcome sight of Jake, Russell and Herb coming up behind them. She froze for a second, then grabbed Ellie's arm.

"Ellie, sssh! They're right behind us!" she whispered urgently into the girl's ear. "They'll hear you!"

"Don't really care, to be honest," said Ellie, deliberately raising her voice as the three boys drew level with them. "Even if they do overhear me, what are they going to do about it? Hit me? Run crying to Teacher? If they do, then more fool them, because they don't deserve any sympathy. Wasps have no right to complain when they've been stung."

Herb made an angry noise in the back of his throat and was about to raise his clenched fists when Jake laid a warning hand on the other boy's arm, and shook his head.

Ellie looked across at Herb.

"Barbara gets around a lot, doesn't she?" she said, with an angelic smile.

Snarling, Herb lunged towards Ellie, so fast that Jack and Lisa both started with fright, but Jake and Russell managed to drag their friend back just in time. They seemed to be struggling to restrain him, though; despite their combined strength, Herb was fighting hard to break free.

"You're dead, Eleanor Johnson," he said through gritted teeth, still trying to break free as Russell and Jake dragged him away from the scene. "You _and_ your pet newbies!"

"Oh, so it's going to be a fair fight for once, then?" Ellie called after them. "Three on three, rather than three on one? You lot must be feeling brave today!"

"Go to hell, Johnson," came the reply from Russell.

"Love to, but unfortunately I can't go until I'm _dead_," said Ellie mockingly. "You three'll have to go on ahead and tell them I've been a bit delayed. Don't hurry back."

The three boys glared at her on the way out, but Ellie just smiled sweetly and gave them a cheery little wave.

"Way to make 'em even more mad, Ellie," said Jack nervously, when they'd gone. "What the hell'd you do that for?"

"I guess I got myself locked in the lavatory when God was handing out the tact," said Ellie, who seemed entirely untroubled by the events of the last few minutes. She kicked her locker door until it opened, and started loading more books into her backpack. "By the time I finally got out, I'd missed out on all the sensible too, so the Almighty decided to make up for it with a double dose of bloody-mindedness. But don't you worry, Jack. Jake's full of big talk, but he won't lay a finger on me."

"What about us?" said Lisa, who had been wondering about this ever since Ellie had first ignored her warning to shut up. "Granted, you're probably fine, but what if he decides to turn me and Jack into a little red smear on the floor? We're going to get _killed_."

"Nah, you won't get killed," said Ellie airily. "Jake's already been brought into the principal's office for assault twice this year. One more time and Daddy'll take his nice new car away. He won't try anything, trust me. But if it makes you feel any happier, I'll walk you home."

"Really?" said Lisa, feeling the weight of dread lifting from her heart.

"Yeah, it's no problem," said Ellie, and slammed the locker door shut. "I've got to stop off at the library on my way home anyway, so I can do this wretched homework. You live in the Harlechs' old apartment on Pinewood Avenue, right?"

"How'd you know that?" said Jack, slightly stunned. Neither of them had told anybody their new address - quite apart from the fact that they wouldn't be staying long anyway, the apartment belonged to Dr Harlech and they'd felt that it wasn't appropriate to invite visitors into somebody else's home.

"Easy, really," said Ellie. "You're the first new arrivals in town since Shazza and her family moved here, and I saw someone moving boxes into that apartment about a week ago. And when you said you were staying at a friend's apartment, I knew it had to be that one, because old Mr and Mrs Harlech left it to one of their daughters in Raccoon City before they died, and the daughter never bothers with the place. My mum and her friends have only just heard about you through the gossip, too, and usually they're the first to know everything, which means that you're staying with someone who doesn't move in regular social circles - and your absent friend fits the bill perfectly. After all, she can't pass on the news if she's not here. How did you get to know her, anyway? Junior doctors and tenth-graders don't usually mix."

"Uh, long story," said Jack hurriedly, after Lisa shot him a warning glance. "Maybe some other time…"

xxxxxxxxxx

Lisa had always admired the Raccoon City Public Library. This had been for two reasons. One had been the library's vast collection of books, which had seemingly covered pretty much every subject in the world; the other reason had been the library's splendid architecture. Viewed from the outside, the library had borne more than a passing resemblance to the Capitol building in Washington D.C., and the interior had been no less impressive. There had been marble floors, intricate plasterwork and ornate fireplaces, a double staircase with wrought-iron balustrades, and a chandelier suspended from the immense domed ceiling. The ceiling had been decorated with scenes from famous works of literature, painted in vivid colours and gleaming gold leaf. It had been one of her favourite places to visit and Lisa had believed, very firmly, that there was no finer library to be found in the state.

She'd been expecting the library here to be inferior in every way, and it was true that the Arklay Public Library was smaller and somewhat shabbier than the one in Raccoon City, which had always been beautifully maintained. The white paint on the building's façade had faded with time and was gradually turning a greyish colour, and the tall windows were caked with dust and grime; other than that, she could have been looking at a scaled-down copy of the building.

Jack noticed her open-mouthed astonishment and asked what was wrong.

"Nothing," said Lisa at last, closing her mouth. "It just - looks so familiar, that's all."

"Yeah, there was meant to be one just like it in Raccoon City," Ellie remarked. "Bit bigger, of course, and they probably looked after it better too. You ever go there?"

"A few times," said Lisa faintly, though this was a definite understatement; she'd spent at least half of her childhood in the city's library, sitting in one of the old armchairs and immersing herself in stories while her mother spent long hours browsing through the reference section. To the young and curious Lisa, whose thirst for knowledge couldn't be satisfied by school alone, the weekly visits to the library had been a kind of regular pilgrimage. Much later, when her parents had grown distant and her best friend had vanished altogether, the library had become Lisa's second home and a blessed sanctuary from Julie Wilberforce's vapid, superficial world of gossip and conformity. Her new friend Jack had understood this need to escape, and what was more, he'd cared; it was this feeling of being understood that had drawn her closer to him in the first place.

"I never saw it myself," said Ellie, and her words stemmed the silent flow of Lisa's thoughts. "Bit of a shame, I heard they had a great biography section. Loads of books about music and pop culture, too. I fancied borrowing a few things, but I never got the chance to go there. Too late now, of course. You coming in?"

Lisa shook her head. The memory of the library that she'd once loved was precious and the thought of seeing it again in another incarnation was tempting, but it would be heartbreaking to go inside and find out that it was completely different - or worse, exactly the same as she remembered.

"No, we've got to get home," she said. "Good luck with the homework, Ellie."

"I'll probably need it," said Ellie, with a grimace. "Thanks, Lisa. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you _mañana_," called Jack, as the other girl hurried up the steps and in through the library's weathered front doors.

"Come on, Jack," said Lisa, turning away quickly from the library; she didn't want to look at it any more. "We'd better get going, or it'll be dark by the time we get home. I think it's going to rain again, too."

"Dunt seem to _stop _rainin' up here," said Jack, taking her hand. "I hope after this, we can go live someplace where the sun shine more often. Dunt know 'bout you but I be gettin' real sick of wakin' up to grey skies every damn day."

"Same here," Lisa agreed wholeheartedly. "And I hope - "

There was a flutter of wings overhead, and a cloud of birds descended from the roof and skies. Lisa was about to scream when she noticed that the birds weren't diseased crows with madness glinting in their eyes. She almost laughed at her own foolishness when she saw what kind of birds they were.

"Whoa," said Jack. "I never see so many pigeons in my _life_."

"Me either," said Lisa, transfixed by the sight of scores of ratty-looking grey birds soaring past them. "You wouldn't think there'd be so many here, would you?"

But as they watched, their amazement turned back again to horror. The flock of birds seemed to be heading straight towards a little old lady standing a few feet away; they'd never seen so many birds move with such intent, not since the zombie crows of Raccoon City. Too scared to cry out a warning to the woman, Jack and Lisa could only stand and watch helplessly as the birds swooped down and landed on the old lady's head and shoulders…

… and came to rest. There were no screams from the old lady, or maddened shrieks from the birds as their bloodlust compelled them to attack. The only sounds were rustling feathers and a few appreciative coos from the pigeons as they settled on the woman's shoulders.

"Hello, my beauties!" cried the old woman, with a cackle of laughter. "What do you think? I _told_ 'em, oh yes, but would they listen? No! Noooo, no, no. No, nobody ever listens to an old lady, oh no. Heh heh - them and their papers. Crazy, I am, at least that's what they say, thinking I can't hear 'em, but I can!"

"Oh boy," said Jack under his breath.

"What?" said Lisa, tearing her eyes away from the scene to look at Jack.

"Lunatic at twelve o'clock," Jack muttered. "Trust me, I know a crazy homeless person when I see one. I must've seen a hundred of 'em in downtown. C'mon, quick, b'fore she come over an' start tryin' to talk to us."

He grabbed Lisa's arm and tried to pull her away, but stopped short as he met with resistance. He turned round to see Lisa standing in the same place, her arms resolutely folded.

"Well what's so bad about that?" she said, rather crossly. "You shouldn't just ignore her and pretend she doesn't exist, like she isn't even a person! She's a human being, same as you and me! Not some kind of monster! If she wants to talk to us, then let her! Where's the harm in that?"

"You ever been robbed blind by a crazy homeless junkie who be threatenin' to stab you in the throat if you dunt give him money for his next fix?" said Jack shortly. "No, I dint think so," he added, seeing the startled look on Lisa's face. "You be a real kind girl, Lise, but you live one hell of a sheltered life back in uptown. No everybody livin' on the streets be harmless, an' sometimes you dunt know if the scary-lookin' guy askin' you for small change gonna take no for an answer. If you dunt know which of 'em be okay an' which ones just _look _okay, then dunt take any chances."

Lisa opened her mouth to say something, but the words had gone. Nothing seemed adequate to fill the void where her answer should have been, and though she was angry with Jack for sounding so unsympathetic, she was forced to admit to herself that he had a point. After all, he'd lived in Coburg, right in the heart of downtown Raccoon City, being pestered for change by panhandlers on his way to and from school. She, on the other hand, had lived up in peaceful, affluent Winterton, where people thought that being down on your luck meant earning less than a hundred thousand dollars a year. What did she know?

"All right," she said quietly. "I guess you know better than I do."

With one fleeting glance back at the strange little old woman, who was still talking loudly and nonsensically to the open air, Lisa took Jack's hand and they started walking away.

"I don't understand this bit at all!" cried the old lady gleefully. "Everything's changing, because tourists are money! Who gets the blame? Hand me down the crown! I'm gonna fight 'em all!"

Jack just shook his head.

"Kinda sad, ain't it," he said. "But there you go. That be what happen when there ain't nobody to take in the drunks an' drug addicts an' crazy people an' help 'em. Dunt matter whether they be harmless or violent, they all end up out in the cold. Even the ones who dunt start off crazy usually get that way in the end."

"Why doesn't somebody help them?" said Lisa plaintively. "There must be something they can do, surely? Some place they can go?"

"Sure. Hospitals, rehab clinics, homeless shelters, psychiatric units," said Jack. "Except they dunt get much fundin', 'cause people rather have tax cuts than a better welfare system, an' they start protestin' when people try an' build homeless shelters an' mental hospitals near where they live. That stuff be okay 'cept when it be in you back yard, but _everywhere_ be somebody's back yard now. So these places dunt get built, people like me almost get killed by crazy people who ain't gettin' the help they need, an' Mr Homeless Guy dies in the snow one winter. Then the same people who say they dint want the rehab clinic an' the hospital start complainin' 'bout why nobody try to do anythin' 'bout all the homeless people."

Again, Lisa was at a loss for words. Jack was right again; she clearly remembered the people of Winterton campaigning against a proposal for a new psychiatric hospital in the area. Her parents had been the only people in the street not to sign, being doctors and generally in favour of new hospitals. Unfortunately, their views hadn't been shared by the rest of their neighbours, who had been appalled by the mere thought of having "crazy people" right on their doorstep, and so the plans for the hospital had been abandoned. She felt suddenly ashamed of being from uptown, with all its arrogance and hypocrisy, its blatant snobbery and utter, utter stupidity.

"It's always got to be the same!" she heard the old lady say loudly. "The feeling, the focus, and you still won't hear me… strange little girl! Sweet little bird, trapped in a big gold cage of lies! The boy freed you but now you're both trapped here, in the biggest cage of all!"

Something in the woman's voice caught Lisa's attention, but then she felt Jack's fingers close a little tighter around hers.

"She just talkin' her crazy talk, Lise," he murmured. "Dunt let it get to you, she ain't talkin' 'bout you or nothin'. She prob'ly dunt even know what she be sayin'."

Jack was right, thought Lisa. The old lady had been rambling for some time now, and nothing else she'd said had made much sense, so why would this be any different? No, it was clearly nonsense, and she was stupid to have thought otherwise. She nodded, and started walking again.

"I know you, little angel, and your fallen angel too!" the old woman called out. "He's got devil's blood now, oh yes, but that's the price you pay for dying these days, at least if you want to come back through the right door!"

This time Lisa stiffened. Slowly and very deliberately, feeling the blood draining from her cheeks, she turned around.

"Lise, what - ?" said Jack, grabbing her by the arm, but she shook him off almost absent-mindedly and started walking towards the old woman. "Lise - hey, Lise, wait!"

But Lisa didn't hear his entreaties to come back. She kept walking, wondering if she was out of her mind and if it was fear, curiosity, her sixth sense or sheer madness that was propelling her towards a woman who looked as though her whole purpose in life was to act as a mobile pigeon perch.

As she got closer, she started noticing all the little details that she'd missed the first time round, when she'd been more worried about seeing another attack from birds infected with the T-Virus than actually looking at the person in front of her.

The old lady was short and squat, with beady little black eyes and a face like a withered apple. At some point in the past, she'd given up on fashion and taken to wearing whatever old clothes she could get her hands on - an olive-green turtleneck sweater, a pair of filthy khaki cargo shorts and a faded cotton skirt, its floral print now virtually invisible beneath all the accumulated grime of the streets. These items had been teamed with fingerless black lace gloves, some garish black- and orange-striped knee socks, a pair of battered red court shoes, several strings of cheap plastic beads, and a black duffel coat that was liberally streaked with dirt and what Lisa's mother would have delicately referred to as "bird droppings". Lisa's father, on the other hand, would have simply described it as "pigeon shit, and lots of it". A few grey wisps of hair were just visible beneath the plum-coloured woollen hat that had been pulled right down over her head.

But what Lisa noticed most of all were the pigeons perched on her shoulders and outstretched arms, with three more birds jostling for space on top of the woman's hat. They seemed ordinary enough, if a little more intelligent than the average pigeon, although she'd never seen so many of them in one spot. They were the biggest contribution to the woman's overall effect - that of a deranged and hopelessly ineffective scarecrow with no field to stand in.

The apparition gave her a wizened, toothless grin as she approached.

"Got sick of waiting here," it announced. "But I won't move away from here, my girl. I've been waiting here for you, all this time. They told me you were born under an umbrella and that your hero would die for you one day, but you just couldn't let him go, could you? No, you brought him back, and he's a changed man. Look after him, though, because he's all you have now, and the darkness is coming."

"Darkness?" said Lisa, frowning. "What darkness? What do you mean?"

The old woman just shook her head, almost regretfully, and reached over to one of the pigeons on her shoulder. With an odd tenderness, she began stroking the bird's head with one gnarled finger.

"I know who you are," said the woman enigmatically. "And the boy too, poor creature. So much suffering, so young… and still so much more hardship to come. They told me."

_This has to be just a coincidence,_ Lisa told herself firmly, as the first cold tendrils of alarm began snaking into her consciousness._ She's old and homeless and not quite right in the head. She couldn't possibly know who we are, or what happened to us in Raccoon City. Jack's right, she's just talking crazy talk. And yet…_

"Who told you?" said Lisa quietly.

"The pigeons know everything," said the woman, nodding solemnly at the birds roosting on her arms. "They go everywhere, they see everything, and they tell me. Oh yes, there's nothing they don't know."

"Lise," Jack called from behind her. He was starting to sound worried. "Lise, come on!"

"The little birds," the woman continued. "They tell me. They show me the world through their eyes, they share what they've seen, and they've seen the darkness coming."

"What darkness?" said Lisa, now deeply worried and, at the same time, exasperated by the woman's apparent refusal to explain these odd statements in further detail. "What are you talking about? Who _are_ you?"

The old woman's wrinkled face broke into a smile, but there was no warmth or mirth in it. If anything, it chilled Lisa's blood far more than the strange words and the slightly menacing, sing-song tone of the woman's voice.

"They call me the Pigeon Lady," she responded. "But I have many names. Names mean nothing to me."

"Then you ain't gonna mind if I call you a crazy old lady who need to stop scarin' my girlfriend with her crazy talk," said Jack sharply, from behind her, and Lisa almost cried with relief at the sound of his voice. She always felt safer when he was around; now that he was here, she didn't have to be so afraid of this strange and rather frightening woman.

"And there's the poor young hero himself," the old woman announced, not to Lisa and Jack, but to the pigeons sitting on her right shoulder. "Yes, I thought he'd come eventually."

"Yeah, I come to bring my girlfriend away from you b'fore you scare her any more," Jack answered roughly, and he took Lisa by the arm. "C'mon, Lise, let's get outta here…"

"So why have your guardian angels dumped you here, my poor little ones?" said the old woman suddenly, as they turned to walk away. "Don't they know about the noises in the woods?"

Now it was Jack's turn to look disconcerted.

"What noises?" he said suspiciously, stopping in his tracks and turning back to look at the Pigeon Lady. The old woman was smiling, very slightly, while one of the pigeons pecked mindlessly at the widening hole in a black lace glove.

"There's no escaping them. They're everywhere, and they follow me home, no matter how far I go. I hear them always, even in my dreams," said the woman, shuddering briefly, then her odd, faint smile returned. "Nobody else hears them, but they're there all the same. The darkness is gathering, and soon they'll say you've brought the evil here. You may think you've won, but you haven't escaped from the darkness, my children. Darkness awaits you, and darkness surrounds you, and darkness follows in your wake. Darkness… and death."

Lisa felt weak and light-headed. Darkness and death? Wasn't that exactly what they'd been trying to avoid when they came to live here? This was meant to be their safe haven - no, this couldn't be right!

"All right, that be it," said Jack suddenly, angrily. "I heard enough. Lise, we gettin' out of here right _now_. C'mon, I ain't listenin' to no more of this, an' you ain't either! Ain't we got enough nightmares to deal with already?"

Lisa nodded gratefully and reached for Jack's arm, clinging to it tightly. They turned away from the old woman so quickly that the pigeons milling around the woman's feet took fright and scattered, flying up into the darkening sky.

As they hurried away, they could still hear the old woman's voice ringing out behind them, loud and shrill:

"No survivors left for you to save now! It's too late for the walking dead, oh yes, much too late, so no future for you, eh? But you'll still kill the old way, when the time comes. Oh yes! You'll have to fight your way out if you want to leave Arklay alive!"

xxxxxxxxxx

They'd walked in silence all the way home. Lisa hadn't done so by choice, but Jack had been walking faster than usual, his head down, staring at the sidewalk just ahead of his feet, and she'd known better than to talk to him.

Jack was already marching up the staircase, still staring furiously down at the floor. Lisa trailed up the stairs after him, wondering if his mind was as full of troubling thoughts as hers was and wishing desperately that he would say something, if only to relieve the tension.

The front door of the apartment swung back and Jack walked straight in. He muttered something to himself, then tossed his backpack halfway across the room and sat down heavily in the nearest armchair. Curling himself up into a ball and hugging his knees, he then turned onto his right side until he was facing inwards, staring sullenly at the back of the chair.

"Jack," said Lisa, when she felt that she could stand the silence no longer. "Do you want to talk?"

"No," came the gruff reply from the armchair. "I dunt wanna talk."

"But - "

"I dunt wanna talk, Lise," Jack repeated, more irritably this time, and he curled up a little more. Now his face was hidden from view, pressed up against the chair fabric, as if he wanted to burrow right into it and go to sleep.

After that, there was really nothing else to be said. Lisa shook her head and left the room, allowing the living room door to close gently behind her. It was probably a good idea to leave Jack alone for a little while, she decided, so that he could think things over.

Since the living room was now unofficially out of bounds, at least until Jack had stopped sulking, she pushed the study door open and went inside.

She hadn't been into the study since the day that she and Jack had first arrived, but she'd decided right away that the room was a good place to sit and think. The Harlechs had obviously thought so too; there were more bookcases lined up along one wall, and an antique wooden desk and chair which overlooked the window, giving whoever sat there a wonderful view of the forest.

In the middle of the room was a beautiful carved wooden chess set, which had been set out on a small table and left to gather dust. The chairs on either side had been tucked neatly underneath the table, but the pieces on the board had been left exactly where they were; it looked as though the game had been abandoned halfway through, and never completed. Whoever had been playing with the white pieces was being badly beaten by the other player - there were at least twice as many black pieces on the board as there were white ones, though the tide could still have been turned by a sufficiently skilled player. She'd probably never know the outcome.

Lisa wished that Jack had wanted to talk about their meeting with the Pigeon Lady. The woman's words were really starting to bother her now, but there was nobody else here to talk to. The only choice she had was to keep it all bottled up inside, or to express her thoughts some other way…

A moment's quiet thought later, Lisa sat down at the desk. She went through the desk drawers until she found a few sheets of blank lined paper. Taking a pen from the desk tidy, she scribbled on the corner of one page to make sure that it still worked, then began to write.

_October 20th, 1998_

_I don't normally write diary entries, because whenever I start a diary I get bored after a few days and give up, but Jack doesn't want to talk right now and this is pretty much the only alternative I have._

_We've been here for nine days and I'm not sure if I like it here as much as I did when we first arrived. We've made a friend but we seem to have picked up a whole bunch of enemies at the same time, and now things are starting to get weird…_

After a while, the words in her head ran out. Lisa put down the pen, picked up the paper and re-read what she'd just written. She felt much better now, as though she'd emptied out all the confusion in her head onto the page. All those worries looked silly and insignificant now, and she felt foolish for having let them bother her so much. Nightmares, having trouble making friends and the ramblings of an elderly homeless lady with a pigeon fixation - why was she letting things like these frighten her? If anything, she ought to be worried about Jack, or the safety of her friends in Europe, not birds and backbiting and bad dreams.

Crumpling the paper and tossing it into the wastebasket, Lisa got up from her seat and pushed it back underneath the desk. She was about to leave the study when something drew her eye to the corner of the room.

It was an old wooden easel, rickety with age and stained with paint and turpentine. She'd noticed it on her first visit to the study, but hadn't given it very much thought. There was a canvas still perched on the easel, the outlines just visible underneath the thick white dust-sheet, but neither she nor Jack had felt the need to inspect it closer. Now, though, she was bored and restless and needed a distraction, so she carefully lifted up the front of the sheet and draped it across the top of the easel.

Underneath was a large oil painting, complete save for an area of canvas in the bottom right-hand corner, which bore faint pencil outlines and a tiny smudge of emerald-green paint. Lisa had been half-expecting a family portrait, but in fact the painting was of Arklay, shown from a high vantage point somewhere in the forest.

The painting itself was mediocre, and the perspective appeared to be slightly askew, although Lisa had to admit that the scene it depicted was pretty. Probably the work of an enthusiastic but clumsy amateur, she thought. It was certainly nothing special artistically.

There was no signature. Lisa felt strangely disappointed by this. It would have been nice to discover that Dr H had painted it when she was much younger, though it was far more likely to have been done by her mother or father, trying to fill up the long, dull days of their retirement with a new hobby.

Lisa stood back a little to admire the painting as a whole, but then a tiny detail in the background caught her eye. Frowning, she peered at the painting again, not quite sure if she'd really seen it or whether it had been just a figment of her imagination.

No, there it was, the hateful little red-and-white octagon that symbolised the collapse of her entire life and the destruction of everything that she'd held dear. The miniscule version of the Umbrella logo was emblazoned on the side of a small and rather blobby black truck, which was heading along a thin, winding road through the forest towards -

"Oh my God," Lisa breathed, not sure whether to be shocked, angry or even frightened by the fact that she was looking straight at the birthplace of a nightmare.

It was half-hidden by the trees, but Amber and the other STARS members had once allowed her to look at a copy of the old photograph, and there was no mistaking what little she could see of the place. No, there was no doubt about it. The house hidden deep in the painted forest was none other than the Spencer mansion.

"Jack! Come and look at this!" called Lisa, her intentions of leaving him alone instantly forgotten, and she rushed out of the room.

Outside, a scruffy-looking pigeon that had been sitting on the windowsill for the past ten minutes abruptly sat up, ruffled its feathers, then spread its bedraggled wings wide and took off into the evening sky.

Ellie walked home from the library that evening in a thoughtful frame of mind. It had been an interesting session, and an educational one too. She'd learned a little about Shakespeare, a lot about the process of electrolysis - which she'd mostly slept through in class - and cleared up once and for all her confusion about long division.

To her surprise, because there hadn't been any homework to do for that class tonight, she'd also learned a small but very significant amount of geography.

It had been on her way out of the library that she'd seen the head librarian - a plump, cheerful lady known to the world as Mrs Florence Duvall - struggling to unroll a large and yellowing map on one of the reading tables.

There had been several huge rolls of yellowed paper sitting in a neat pile at the end of the table. These, Mrs Duvall had explained a trifle breathlessly, consisted of the library's map collection, which she had been recataloguing. A couple of the maps were over a hundred years old and quite valuable, she'd said, though most were only a few decades old and of very little value or interest to non-cartographers.

Ellie had been anxious to get home before dark and had murmured something about it being very interesting, but Mrs Duvall had taken this polite comment as a genuine expression of interest and gone on to detain her for some time, unrolling each of the crackling rolls of paper and describing them all at great length and in exhaustive detail. A helpless Ellie had mumbled again that they were very nice but that she had to get home now, but Mrs Duvall apparently hadn't heard this and had insisted on showing her each and every one of the wretched maps.

"And this one," the woman had said with enthusiasm, unrolling the final piece of paper. "This is my favourite from the collection. It's the only one of Raccoon County that shows the entire Arklay Mountain range, at least on a scale like this. Very detailed - that's why it's so big. Obviously we have more recent maps, _modern_ ones, but… anyway, this one dates from the mid-Sixties. That's when Mr Spencer used to live around here, back in the old days, when I was a girl. I think he was an aristocrat, a lord or something like that. He had a big house built for him somewhere in the forest, a mansion. They say it was the last building ever designed by George Trevor - you know, the famous architect from New York? He disappeared shortly after the mansion was finished, along with his wife and daughter, and so _suddenly_, too. They never found out what happened to them all. Very strange…"

While Mrs Duvall had chattered on about thirty-year-old gossip and the general hearsay still floating around, Ellie had looked a little closer at the map to see if she could spot her house, but then her ears had pricked up at an offhand remark:

"… and then of course after it happened, there were all _sorts _of stories. A few people said they'd heard a big explosion around dawn, and helicopters passing overhead, but people will say anything these days, won't they? The newspapers talked about little else for weeks. I'm sure you've already heard the rumours, though."

"Pardon?" Ellie had said politely.

"About the attacks and the so-called "mansion incident", you know," replied Mrs Duvall briskly. "Quite astonishing, some of the theories the press came up with later on. I felt dreadfully sorry for those poor people, being _hounded_ like that, having all those terrible things said about them in the papers. You'd think people would be more discreet, wouldn't you?"

Ellie had leaned over the table to look at the map again, and this time she'd spotted something in the woods - a white box, set in an irregularly-shaped area of pale green. This in turn had been set in the dark green area which denoted the vast expanse of Raccoon Forest. It was labelled "Spencer Mansion Estate" and Ellie had realised that this was roughly the same area of forest in which she'd had the misfortune to lose her way.

The librarian had shook her head vigorously when Ellie had asked if the Spencer mansion was still there.

"No, my dear, it was destroyed back in July, didn't you hear?" she'd said, looking rather surprised. "Some kind of forest fire, or a gas explosion, something like that. People say it was blown up on purpose, but like I said, people believe all kinds of silly things. Why on earth would somebody want to blow up an empty old mansion? Unless of course they were demolishing it - I know Mr Spencer hasn't lived there for a good few years now. The place was probably derelict, I expect. Anyway, I'll just put this away…"

"What's that?" Ellie had asked quickly, stopping the librarian before she could take away the map.

"What's what, dear?" Mrs Duvall had asked.

"This building here," Ellie had told her, pointing to a pair of buildings on the map, both set in the forest next to the Marble River gorge.

Mrs Duvall had peered closely at the map, squinting a bit through her reading glasses, then she'd said:

"Oh, that's the old management training facility. The Umbrella corporation used to own it, years ago. It was where they trained their best employees. Quite a big place, too, it had its own chapel and an infirmary, and all the latest technology. They abandoned it after poor Dr Marcus went missing in the Eighties. He was the director, you see. Such a _nice _man, too. He used to come down here sometimes - that was just after I started working here - and he was always asking for books about leeches. He was terribly interested in them for some reason, heaven only knows why. So sad that they never found out what happened to him. I suppose he must have got lost in the woods one day, or fallen into the gorge. We'll probably never know what became of him, I suppose, though personally I don't believe the authorities did _nearly_ enough to look for him…"

Mrs Duvall began rolling up the map, and this time Ellie hadn't stopped her.

"Anyway, dear, it's getting dark, you really ought to head home," the librarian had said kindly. "I'll be doing the same once I've got these in order. Lord knows I've kept you long enough with my chatter. Go on, before your poor mother worries herself sick!"

And so Ellie had left with a whole new interest in local history and geography, still wondering why an Umbrella employee had been so close to the site of the old mansion, a site around which so many strange rumours were circulating. She reminded herself firmly that nothing sinister was really afoot, and that Umbrella had just bought the land to redevelop it as a company resort -

_And I'm the Mona bloody Lisa,_ came a thought from nowhere, taking Ellie so completely by surprise that she almost stopped walking. _Umbrella employees and rumours and all that business about a mansion incident - what's been going on here? And why would a company surveyor make so much fuss about a lost teenage girl getting so close to private property, when by all accounts it's just a hole in the ground, or at best a big empty patch of nothing? Why didn't he just stick to the "dangerous construction site" theory? Why be so edgy about it? No, something's up all right. I just wish I knew what's been happening up here for the past few decades, then maybe I could make some sense of all this. Surely there must be some way for me to catch up on all the news?_

xxxxxxxxxx

It was dark by the time she got home, and Ellie's mother had scolded her soundly for coming home so late. However, she'd been placated a little by the fact that her daughter had been safely ensconced in the library, and a little more by the fact that she'd been doing her homework. Now, though, she looked rather bewildered.

"Old newspapers?" she repeated. "Yes, love, we've got some in the basement, your father was meant to put them out for recycling but he hasn't had time to go to the dump yet. We've got a good few months' worth. They're a bit damp, mind. What do you want them for? Project for school, I expect?"

"No, not exactly," said Ellie, hanging up her Army jacket. "I was talking to Mrs Duvall in the library and she was talking about some old mansion in the forest. I thought I'd do some research and read up on it, it sounded really interesting."

"Local history? Well, it's nice to see you taking an interest in this place at last," said her mother, beaming. "I know you didn't want to leave London, sweetheart, but you've spent far too long sulking about it. It's about time you started settling in. I know you've got your little pop group and everything - "

"Mum, it's a _punk band_, not a pop group," said Ellie, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, same thing," said her mother impatiently, brushing aside Ellie's indignant protests that it wasn't the same thing at all. "Still, it keeps you out of trouble, I suppose, and that's a blessing after all that business at school. How are you getting on, anyway?"

"All right," said Ellie, opening the basement door and heading downstairs. "Made a couple of friends last week."

"Wonderful!" she heard her mother exclaim from upstairs. "Did you make friends with that nice blonde girl again? I know you fell out at school, but you really shouldn't have hit her like that, that was _unspeakably _rude of you. I was so ashamed, because her mother's such a lovely woman, she invited me to tea last week and her daughter seems like a very nice girl. I'm sure you two could be great friends if you made the effort."

In the darkness of the basement, Ellie made a face. Her mother was a very intelligent woman, but the fact that Ellie and Karen loathed the sight of each other seemed to have completely escaped her notice - but then she always seemed to have an Arklay-sized blind spot where the town and its inhabitants were concerned.

"Or how about Jake Maddigan? Such a charming young man, it's a pity about his stupid brute of a father. I think you should try and spend some time with him, I'm sure you'd get on famously," came her mother's voice from upstairs.

"Mum, we get on like a house on fire," Ellie called back, and smiled wryly at her mother's delighted response. Her mother clearly hadn't attended many house fires - fires generally involved screams, flames, destruction and loss of life, which was pretty much what would happen if ever she and Jake were placed in a room together and told to "get along".

She found the light switch next to the door, and the dark little space underneath the house was suddenly filled with a light as bright and artificial as Karen Hall's smile.

"So who are your new friends, dear?" her mother called, from upstairs.

"Lisa Hartley and Jack Carpenter," Ellie answered. "They moved into Mr and Mrs Harlech's old apartment last week."

She looked around the basement. It wasn't long before she spotted the stack of old newspapers, tied up with twine and sitting neatly beside a pile of cardboard boxes. They were musty-smelling and slightly damp, but they were exactly what she was looking for.

"You mean the two orphans from Raccoon City?" said Ellie's mother, regally descending the basement steps. "Oh, yes, I've heard about them. One of the other mums at Ginny's nursery was talking about them today. Lost their families to that strange virus, apparently. I haven't seen anything of them yet, but they sound like nice enough kids. Shame no-one's looking after them. Poor little things, left on their own to fend for themselves like that, and so soon after they lost their parents, too."

"Come on, Mum, it's not like they've been _totally _abandoned," said Ellie, who was struggling to untie the twine that bound the stack of newspapers. "They've been taken in by one of the Harlech girls and a couple of friends, but they're in Europe on some kind of business trip. They're coming back at the end of the month and then they'll take Jack and Lisa somewhere else."

Ellie gave up on the knot. It had been tied too tightly; there was nothing for it but to cut through the string. She took out the Swiss Army knife that she always carried and, after a few seconds' trial and error, found a decent knife blade. It cut through the knot easily, and the broken twine slid gently onto the concrete floor.

"Well, all right then," said Ellie's mother, but there was still a note of uncertainty in her voice. "But be nice to them both, they've gone through an awful lot, and don't you _dare _fall out with them like you did with Karen."

"Mum, I never fell _in _with Karen. I hated her from the moment she first spoke to me," said Ellie flatly.

"Why don't you invite them both around for tea sometime?" said her mother, who appeared not to have noticed this last comment. "I'd love to meet them, and I'm sure they'd appreciate the company."

"Good idea, Mum," agreed Ellie, picking up the first newspaper in the pile and turning it over to reveal the headline:

_ATTACKS PROMPT OFFICIAL INVESTIGATION_

_STARS Unit Deployed To Raccoon Forest_

"I'll get your dad to bring those up to your room for you, love," said Ellie's mother gently, a few moments later. "Dinner's at seven, I'll come and come and fetch you when it's ready. I know what you're like when you're reading. Completely oblivious. Someone could drop an atom bomb on the house and you wouldn't notice."

"Thanks, Mum," said Ellie, now only half-listening as she immersed herself in the past. "I'll see you in a bit."

xxxxxxxxxx

Jack had emerged from his sulk after a while, and he'd been quite cheerful from then on. He still hadn't wanted to talk about whatever was troubling him, but Lisa had decided not to press the matter any further.

The remainder of the evening had been quiet enough. Jack had found the painting moderately interesting, and oddly, he hadn't been unduly bothered by the presence of the Spencer Mansion in the picture.

"'s just a painting, Lise. Someone prob'ly paint it years ago an' forget 'bout it. The mansion just be part of the view then, they dint have any special reason for includin' it. Yeah, I know some real bad, creepy stuff happen in that mansion, but it ain't there no more. Dunt worry 'bout it."

"But don't you wonder what might have been in that truck?" Lisa persisted.

"Prob'ly just food an' stuff for the people who used to work there," said Jack, shrugging. "That place be real out of the way an' they'd wanna buy stuff in bulk. It ain't like they could go down to the store an' buy two hundred rolls of toilet paper or whatever. What, you think they be transportin' people an' stuff in that thing?"

"Maybe," said Lisa uncertainly.

"Well if they did, then they prob'ly all be dead now anyway," said Jack mildly. "No point worryin' 'bout it now. C'mon, Lise, Umbrella be on its way down, Amber an' the others gonna see to that. Stop worryin' 'bout the past, _querida_. We got a whole future ahead of us."

"Yes, but what about the stuff that old lady said earlier?" said Lisa.

"Crazy talk," Jack said abruptly. "Dunt let that old lady scare you, Lise, she be outta her mind. Prob'ly what happens to you when you got pigeons sittin' on you head all day. Hell, I prob'ly start actin' _loco _if I had a pigeon on my head an' it dint go away. Ain't like she can see the future or nothin', right? Aunt Rosa always tell me there ain't no such things as ghosts, or omens, or any of that stuff, an' she dint believe in fortune-tellers either. 's good enough for Auntie, 's good enough for me."

And that had been that. She hadn't been able to get any more out of him on the subject, though she'd wondered if Jack was trying to convince himself that the Pigeon Lady's words were of no consequence, and whether or not he was really succeeding. He'd seemed shaken by them earlier, in an angry sort of way - a natural reaction, perhaps, from someone who'd decided that they definitely didn't believe in the supernatural and were going to carry on definitely not believing in it, no matter how close to home the Pigeon Lady's predictions had landed.

_Is it true? _she'd wondered later, as she cleared the dinner plates from the kitchen table. _Who's right, Jack or the Pigeon Lady? I know Jack's probably right and the old lady isn't right in the head, but then again… oh, I don't know. I just hope Jack's right and it is all nonsense. I don't even want to think about what'll happen if he's wrong…_

This particular train of thought hadn't gone much further, though, because Jack had kissed her, and under those circumstances she found it quite hard to worry about anything. Whenever she was close to Jack, she felt as though nothing in the world could possibly hurt or frighten her.

But now it was well after midnight and she was alone again, lying awake in the dark and feeling all her worries coming home to roost, just like the old lady's pigeons.

She couldn't sleep. Well, that wasn't true. She'd gone to sleep a few times, but visions of her dead parents had plagued her so badly that she'd woken up again, drenched in cold sweat. Eventually she'd given up, and now she lay staring at the ceiling, listening to a clock ticking somewhere in the background.

Her parents were gone. Her home was here now, not in a town that no longer existed, so why did she keep returning to Raccoon City every night? Why were her mother and father still haunting her?

Lisa turned over onto her left side to look at the little nightstand. Placed reverentially beside the alarm clock was the family photograph that she'd found in her parents' office, not long before she and the other four survivors had left the city for good. It was now the only existing photograph of Drs. Jonathan and Elizabeth Hartley, deceased, and pretty much the only thing that she had left to remember them by.

She picked it up and stared at the smiling, happy faces of her parents and her younger self, wondering how things could have gone so wrong. Why had both her parents been taken away from her? Why had they died, when she had survived? And why had she gone looking for them, when she'd known in her heart of hearts that there was virtually no chance of finding them alive?

Part of her wished that she hadn't tried to find them. If she and Jack had left town straight away, she could have clung to the hope that somewhere, somehow, her parents might still be alive, and that there was still a chance that she would see them again. Instead, her final glimpse of her parents' faces had been in the depths of the underground lab complex where they'd died, and her last memories of them were the stuff of nightmares.

But perhaps she had been better off knowing, instead of waiting and hoping in vain for good news that would never come. Besides, if she hadn't gone looking for them, she would never have forgiven herself for not trying. Amber, Renée and Dr Harlech wouldn't have made it out of the city either, and she and Jack would have had nowhere to go now. No, she'd done the right thing - what else could she have done?

_Plenty. I could have gone with Charlotte to the park that day, and told her not to bother looking for that baseball. I could have gone looking for Mom and Dad days before, when they would still have been alive. I could have saved Julie and the others. I could have told Jack that it was a better idea to stay in the sewers. I could have not pointed out Marco in the hospital doorway, maybe then we could have got to the Clock Tower faster and saved Almond and the mercenary. Marco would have died anyway, but we could have saved those two. If only we'd reached them sooner…_

It was useless trying to sleep tonight, she thought. There were too many thoughts going around in her head - the kind that kept you awake at night, plagued by shame and guilt and painful regrets. She might as well get up and find something to do to while away the long hours before dawn.

Lisa put the photograph back on the table and got out of bed. As her bare feet touched the floor, she heard the soft patter of raindrops falling outside. It really did rain a lot here, she thought, as she pushed her bedroom door open.

The first roll of thunder came when she was halfway down the dark corridor. Alone in the blackness, Lisa jumped, and immediately felt foolish for doing so. It was only thunder, she told herself. Nothing to be afraid of.

The second came when she went through the kitchen and saw the room light up for an instant in brilliant white. When she blinked, she saw the outlines of the furniture etched onto her vision in lines of light, just for a moment, and then they faded away. The thunder followed straight afterwards; it sounded as though the sky itself was cracking from edge to edge.

Unnerved, Lisa reached for the light switch on the wall and flicked it. The kitchen light shone out like a beacon, chasing the darkness away to the corners of the room. A grateful sigh escaped Lisa's lips as she sat down at the kitchen table, wondering what she could do instead of sleeping. She was contemplating making herself a mug of hot chocolate when the light went out, plunging the room into darkness.

Lisa got up and tried the light switch experimentally. Several attempts later, the room was still shrouded in gloom.

"Hell…" she muttered, and hurried into the living room, trying to remember if there were any candles in the candlesticks on the mantelpiece. When she got to the fireplace, she peered at the pair of candlesticks in the dark. She could just make out a short stub of candle stuck in each one. They wouldn't last for more than an hour, she knew that, but they would have to do for now.

A match flared in the darkness as she lit the candles with trembling fingers, almost dropping it in fright as the room lit up again with a crash of thunder. The twin flames of the lit candles did little to light up the room, but the sight of even the smallest light in the darkness was comforting.

Lisa sat down gingerly on the couch. It was the kind of expensive-looking couch that you were almost afraid to sit on, but it turned out to be sturdier and more comfortable than she'd expected. Slowly, she brought her bare feet up onto the couch. She hugged her knees and looked quickly about her, first seeking out the light, and then the shadows.

She'd always been a little afraid of the dark. Darkness meant danger and uncertainty, and held all sorts of unknown terrors - as she and the others had almost learned to their cost in Raccoon City. She could still sleep with the lights off, that was fine, but after what had happened in the last days of her hometown, she felt deeply uneasy about being alone in dark places, and so she avoided darkness whenever possible.

When it wasn't possible - like now - she did her best to face her fears. She looked for the light and then stared down the darkness, watching the deeper shadows intently, almost challenging something horrible to come out of each one.

_I'm not afraid_, she told herself, very emphatically. _Darkness is just what you get when there isn't any light. There's nothing scary about that. We need darkness so we see the light, because how else would we know if the light was really there? And anyway, the worst thing that the darkness could possibly hold is a zombie, and all the zombies are gone now. All the monsters are gone. There's no need to be afraid._

All the same, something in the room didn't feel right, and she wouldn't even be uncomfortable until she found out what it was.

Her eyes darted from corner to corner. No, nothing in the corners, or - she leaned down for a moment - under the furniture, either.

She stood up, picked up one of the candlesticks from the fireplace, and walked purposefully around the room, peering into every dark and hidden space. It was stupid, she knew, to expect to find something horrible lurking in the fireplace, or in the grand piano, or hiding behind the door, but she checked anyway, twitching aside the net curtains and even peering under the rug.

_Oh, for God's sake, Lisa,_ she scolded herself. _It'd have to be a pretty flat zombie to hide under the rug without you noticing. What the hell is wrong with you? Sure, this room might not look so bright and airy and cosy at night, but there's nothing nasty or sinister here. It's just dark, that's all. There's nothing wrong! You're safe here!_

_So why can't I relax?_ she thought miserably, putting the candlestick back on the mantelpiece and taking up her previous position on the couch. Hugging her knees again, she turned to stare at the windows. Rain was still pouring down the glass; a flash of lightning made the droplets glow silver for just a moment, and then the world beyond the glass grew dark again.

Lisa wondered what she could do to take her mind off things. The books on the shelves didn't look particularly interesting, and although the thought of playing that beautiful grand piano was tempting, she didn't want to wake up Jack. There was nothing in the study that would occupy her - you couldn't play chess on your own, and there was nothing that she wanted to read or write about.

_Perhaps I should just go back to bed -_

She yawned, and looked at the French doors. The sight of the darkness outside the glass panes was bothering her. She was about to get up and draw the net curtains across them again when a long streak of silver lit up the sky, flooding the entire street with blinding white light.

With a crash, the light flowed across the balcony and tumbled into the room through the windows and the French doors, and instantly retreated. It formed a perfect silhouette of a tall figure standing on the balcony as it withdrew, and then it was gone. However, the figure didn't fade with the afterglow; its outline remained, unmoving, even after the light had fled.

Lisa's eyes widened in fright. There was somebody on the balcony, and it definitely wasn't Jack.

Oh God. Were the doors locked? When was the last time they'd used them? Oh no, the shadowy figure was right outside, and no matter how fast she moved, whoever it was would get to the doors long before she could.

_Oh no,_ she thought helplessly, feeling her whole body tense up with fright. The stranger outside was facing her, standing stock still and staring at her through the rain-spotted glass panes of the doors. _Oh, God… who is that?_

Her breath caught in her throat, but through lips that didn't seem to be her own any more, she managed to call out:

"Jack…?"

The word came out as a pathetic whimper, a far cry from the loud cry that she'd envisioned before speaking. There was no sound of movement from the rooms beyond, and she knew that Jack hadn't heard her.

The figure was still staring at her, though she couldn't quite make out their facial expression through the rain-blurred glass. Still no movement from beyond the doors, but she didn't dare move herself in case it prompted the stranger's sudden entrance.

_This is how a rabbit feels in the car headlights,_ she thought. _Terrified. Powerless to act, even in the face of death. Too scared to run, too scared to move. Too scared to do anything except wait for the inevitable…_

Hardly daring to move or even breathe, Lisa opened her mouth and tried to call out again.

"Jack… t-there's someone out there…"

It had been louder, but not loud enough, and now the shadowy figure was moving towards the door. One hand darted towards the door handle, but at the very last moment, Lisa found her voice.

"_Jack!"_

The sky lit up once again, but this time the noise that followed wasn't thunder but far-off, muffled cursing and then the blessed relief of running footsteps. The door slammed back on its hinges and a dishevelled Jack burst in, still dressed in boxers and an old t-shirt, trailing bedclothes and brandishing the handgun that had belonged to his aunt and kept the monsters at bay in Raccoon City.

"Lise, what - ?" he gasped, but before he could finish his sentence, Lisa grabbed him by the arm and pointed at the French doors.

"Out there!" she shrieked. "On the balcony! There's someone out there!"

Jack nodded breathlessly and hurried to the French doors, but as lightning struck again, Lise saw that the figure had vanished, seemingly without trace. Still half-asleep and running on automatic, Jack didn't even stop to see what was in front of him. He pulled the curtains roughly aside and wrenched the doors open, rushing out onto the balcony. Lisa followed anxiously after him, in case the strange figure was hiding somewhere and lying in wait for Jack.

There was nobody out on the balcony. Jack and Lisa stood outside and looked around them in puzzlement as the net curtains billowed in the wind and the rain soaked through their clothes.

"Where?" said Jack, looking around.

"I - I don't know," Lisa said, bewildered. "But I don't understand! I saw them - they were right here…"

She ran to the edge of the balcony and leaned over, looking down into the rain-soaked garden, but the mysterious figure was nowhere to be seen. Rain and wind whipped at the climbing plants that had worked their way up the veranda over time, but there was no other sign of movement from the garden. No hunched figure crouching in a bush, or behind the wrought-iron fence, or skulking in the shadows of the veranda. Just grass, glistening with raindrops, and a few shrubs and fading flowers shining brightly, brought to life again tonight in crystal water and silver lightning.

"Lise, there ain't nobody out here," said Jack shortly. He didn't look too impressed about having been woken up in the middle of the night, and looked ready to say something to this effect. "If this be some kind of joke - "

Lisa wasn't listening any more. She was too busy searching the shadows, trying to seek out the person's hiding place. She knew it hadn't been a figment of her imagination. That person had been there on the balcony, she'd _seen_ them, and that meant they had to be out here somewhere. People didn't just disappear, like the lightning.

She looked up, and was momentarily blinded by another flash of lightning. She blinked as the white glow faded, then gripped the edge of the balcony and leaned over for one last look at the garden.

A long shadow suddenly fell across the lawn. Lisa looked up and saw a tall, well-built man standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Dressed all in black and apparently oblivious to the storm, he was holding a pair of dark glasses and carefully wiping raindrops from the lenses. His head was lowered, so she couldn't see his face, but it was definitely the same man.

There was a faint indrawing of breath from beside her; Jack had seen him too, and was inching forward for a closer look, his curiosity temporarily overcoming his fear.

"That him?" he whispered.

Lisa nodded, still too frightened to speak.

The man's head suddenly shot up, and they both stifled gasps as he stared straight at them. He was in his late thirties, or possibly early forties, with a calm, impassive face that might in other circumstances have been handsome. His short hair was golden and glistened damply in the rain, which did his appearance no harm at all, but his eyes -

His eyes looked more reptilian than human, and they burned like hot coals. Once you'd seen his eyes, you understood why that face was so calm and impassive; after all, why bother contorting facial muscles into an expression of pure malevolence when the evil was right there in his eyes, plain for all to see? And when he concealed them behind those expensive sunglasses, you'd never even know that there was anything unusual about him, because his face gave nothing else away. All you'd see would be that cool, composed expression, while behind the dark glasses, his eyes burned.

His expression didn't change at all as he put the sunglasses back on. He simply watched the two teenagers on the balcony, without any real interest. There was a blur of movement as the sky lit up again, and then with a long, low and very final rumble of thunder, he was gone.

Lisa and Jack gaped for a moment, then came to their senses again and leaned further over the balcony, looking around to see where the mysterious stranger had gone. However, he seemed to have disappeared into thin air; no matter how hard they squinted into the night, they couldn't see a trace of him.

"He's gone," said Lisa quietly, not knowing whether to be relieved that he was no longer standing there, or even more frightened that they didn't know where he'd gone.

"Lise?" said Jack. He was shaking now, from cold as well as fear; he was already wet through and the rain was coming down even harder now. As Lisa clung to him, seeking comfort and warmth, he noticed that her clothes were just as wet as his. Her face and arms shone with water, her pyjamas clung to her like a second skin, and her hair hung down in long, limp tresses, so waterlogged that the wind could barely move them. Even her eyelashes were matted together with water, as if she'd been crying.

"Yes?" she said, shivering.

"W-what the _hell _just happen?" said Jack, but Lisa just stared at him in fear and incomprehension, and he wondered why he'd even asked. She was just as frightened and confused as he was, possibly even more so.

"I - I don't know," she said, very faintly.

Jack held her a little tighter, and together they stood on the balcony, looking out onto the dark street as the rain came down and hoping desperately that this wouldn't be the first of many more nights in the dark.

"C'mon," said Jack eventually, kissing Lisa's forehead. "We better go inside. You gonna catch cold out here if you stay out here much longer."

Lisa nodded, smiling bravely, and allowed Jack to usher her back through the doors and into the dry confines of the living room. Jack wiped the rain and wet hair from his forehead, and was about to follow her inside when he heard a soft cooing.

He looked around and then spotted a pigeon huddled on the windowsill of a neighbouring house. The spot was relatively dry and seemed to be protecting the bird from the worst of the wind and rain. To Jack's intense irritation, the bird looked almost smug, as if it was saying, _Ha ha, sucker, I'm dry and you're soaking wet! _

He'd seen that bird earlier, pecking at the holes in the Pigeon Lady's gloves while she predicted doom and disaster. Though not a believer in cruelty to animals, he wasn't about to let one of the crazy old woman's pets sit there and lord it over him…

Narrowing his eyes, Jack stooped down to pick up a small fragment of slate that had been blown off the roof in the storm. With a yell of rage, he hurled it in the general direction of the bird, just close enough to frighten it from its perch without hurting it.

"Beat it, you stupid bird!" he shouted after the pigeon, as it took off in a flurry of feathers. "Go to hell an' take you bad luck with you! Go peck some more holes in that old lady's glove or somethin'! Flyin' rat!"

With an affronted noise, the bird swooped away into the night. Jack immediately felt ashamed of himself. What the hell was he doing? It was only a pigeon, not some sort of harbinger of doom. He didn't believe in this stuff anyway, so why was he letting it get to him?

"Ah, _chingalo_," he muttered, and went inside, quietly cursing himself for letting the old woman's words get to him. He shut the French doors and locked them behind him, then drew the net curtains together as an afterthought. Finally, he blew out the tiny remainders of the candles on the mantelpiece, and left the living room just as the darkness closed in behind him.


	7. Interlude:Quis Custodiet Ipsos Custodes?

**7: Interlude - Quis **

**Custodiet Ipsos Custodes?**

**Wednesday 21st October, 1998**

Two o'clock slipped by, virtually unnoticed. But even as the inhabitants of Arklay slept, the hands of time marched relentlessly onward on a thousand clock faces. Most were oblivious to the passage of the small, dark hours in the night.

Some, however, kept watch…

xxxxxxxxxx

**Central City Excavation Site**

**Former Raccoon City Limits**

The watch on his wrist read 2:01 AM, but UBCS Commander Gary Ulrich didn't pay it much attention. Whatever the time was, it was of secondary importance to getting the job done.

He scanned the dark horizon, for the tenth time in as many minutes, and tried not to shiver. Though he knew that the city and the terrible plague that had infected it had both been utterly obliterated, this place still gave him the creeps.

Raccoon City had been widely reported as having been wiped off the map, and to a certain extent this was true. Not a soul remained here to tell the city's sorry tale, and of the many thousands of buildings that had once existed here, not a single one had been left standing. However, the site wasn't quite the barren, radioactive plain that he had been expecting.

What remained of the city was mostly dust and rubble, but towards the outer reaches of the city were the crumbled remains of a few walls and foundations. They were the only pathetic remnants of buildings that had made up part of a once-thriving city. He could also see the highway, a ribbon of black stretching into the distance; that road led back to civilisation and the UBCS base in neighbouring Ferret County, but more importantly, it led far away from this desolate, godforsaken ruin…

Behind him, the excavation work was continuing. The explosion apparently hadn't been enough to completely take out the lower levels of what had once been the tallest building in the Central City district, and so the company had hastily sent in a clean-up squad to survey and remove what little evidence remained.

He remembered seeing the Umbrella building once, a couple of years ago. Back then, the company's Raccoon City branch headquarters had been a proud symbol of vast financial success and Umbrella's dominance of the corporate world. It had towered over every other building in the city, gleaming brilliantly in the sunlight. It almost saddened him to see something so impressive reduced to little more than a big hole in the ground.

Commander Ulrich shook his head, and watched as the distant figures worked patiently through the night, with the painstaking efficiency that he'd come to expect from his underlings over the years. Each one was wearing an NBC suit - something that he'd insisted on, in spite of his superiors' protests that the missile that had wiped out Raccoon City had been a tactical nuke, and that there would be no viral contamination or lingering, deadly background radiation left to poison his men and jeopardise his mission. If a lifetime in Umbrella's service had taught him one thing, it was not to trust anything that his superiors told him.

A tap on his shoulder from behind interrupted his thoughts. He turned to see a young lieutenant in a biohazard suit, hovering expectantly in front of him.

"What?" he said, more sharply than he'd intended.

"Call for you, sir," the lieutenant replied meekly, and proferred a cellphone.

Commander Ulrich rubbed his aching eyes. He shouldn't have been able to do this, but they had been one suit short, and so he'd offered his to the luckless worker who hadn't been issued with one. He hadn't minded going without the suit. He knew that he had a responsibility to protect the people under his jurisdiction; quite apart from anything else, he'd always disliked wearing anything near his face.

"All right," he said, sighing. "You're relieved from duty, Kendall. Get some sleep."

"Thank you, sir."

The man hurried away. Once he'd decided that the lieutenant was safely out of hearing distance, Commander Ulrich raised the cellphone to his ear.

"This is Ulrich," he said shortly.

"_About time too_," snarled the voice on the other end. "_You__'__re overdue. Report_."

Ulrich groaned. He held the phone at arm's length, muttering "Oh God, not that bitch again," then he brought the phone back and answered briskly:

"The clean-up operation is progressing well, ma'am. We're well ahead of schedule. Estimated completion time is Saturday October 24th, at 1400 hours. We're not anticipating any problems."

"_Nobody ever does_," came the brusque reply. "_You have an additional seventy-two hours to play with, Commander. Use every second of it if you have to. Remember, I want every inch of that site cleared - and don__'__t even think about cutting any corners. If you leave anything incriminating behind, you__'__ll lose a hell of a lot more than your early completion bonus. Understood?__"_

"That won't be a problem, ma'am," answered Ulrich, through gritted teeth. "Trust me, we're going over this place with a fine toothcomb. No effort or expense is being spared to render this place completely safe. I've informed every one of the personnel under my command that if they overlook so much as a speck of contaminated material, they'll be answering personally to you."

"_Good. Has anything else been recovered from the site since my last inspection?_"

"Not yet. We're still checking the lower levels. So far, nothing except the contaminated material discovered while you were on site."

"_I trust that the offending material has been dealt with appropriately.__"_

"Yes, ma'am. Sent away to the laboratory for detailed analysis as per your instructions of October 12th. I have the paperwork right here and can confirm that 100% of the material has been accounted for."

"_Excellent. How much of the site has been cleared?__"_

"I'd say around 80 to 85%. Levels B5, B7 and B9 are now completely clear. Level B8 is already 70% clear. We're anticipating total level clearance by 1800 hours. Level B6 is only 32% clear. The heavy structural damage to the upper levels has caused them to collapse and this has rendered B6 mostly inaccessible. There's a lot of heavy debris to be moved before we can gain full access to that level, and after that, we'll have to brace what's left of it to stop it collapsing into the lower levels. The engineers say it's structurally unsound and this is hampering our efforts to decontaminate the level. However, once the debris has been removed and the level's been shored up by the engineering crew, we should be able to proceed quickly with decontamination and, if necessary, recovery and disposal of infected items. Nothing further to report."

"_Very well. Inform your men that there will be another site inspection tomorrow afternoon. I expect full visual confirmation of your reported progress rate, Commander.__"_

"Understood. Ulrich out."

The cellphone snapped shut and dropped into a pocket.

"Full visual confirmation, my ass," he said under his breath. "Shame you're not here, Doc, or I'd tell you exactly what you can do with your full visual confirmation. My "reported progress rate" would be one hell of a lot faster if you'd stop pestering me day and night for status reports…"

He sighed. He'd been awake for three days straight now. His head was heavy with fatigue and his eyes hurt. Summoning one of his deputies and ordering them to continue overseeing the clean-up operation was beginning to sound more and more like a good idea.

In fact, he thought, that was exactly what he was going to do. He was so tired that his eyes were starting to play tricks on him, and the clean-up crew probably wouldn't take too kindly to being asked to eliminate an infestation of spiders that weren't really there. He needed sleep - hell, being in charge was all about making decisions, wasn't it? It couldn't hurt to delegate for a little while, so he could get his head down for a couple of hours.

"Hey, Brooks," he called out to a nearby soldier. "Yeah, you, Lieutenant. I want you to continue overseeing this operation until 0800 hours. I'm going to get some sleep. If anything unusual comes up, I want to be informed at once. Otherwise, don't bother me."

Lieutenant Brooks saluted.

"Yes, sir."

"I expect a full report when I get back."

"Of course, sir. Permission to go to the bathroom first, sir? I've been working for ten hours straight."

"All right, soldier. You're relieved."

"You bet I am, sir…"

The lieutenant scuttled away gratefully in the direction of the latrines. Secure in the knowledge that he would soon be in bed and fast asleep for the first time in days, Commander Ulrich found himself starting to relax. He turned around, deciding to give his surroundings one last look before bedtime -

Someone just out of his line of sight cleared their throat. The commander's head whipped round sharply, and he found himself looking at one of the workers, a young scientist by the name of Lomax. Though the young man was technically a civilian and not one of Ulrich's own men, the fact that he was in Umbrella's employ still brought him under Ulrich's command, at least for the purposes of the assignment. It was unclear who was the more unhappy about this arrangement - Ulrich was well known for his contempt for scientists, while they in turn disliked being bossed around by military types and resented his interference in scientific matters. The older scientists treated him with disdain or even loathing; the younger ones, on the other hand, feared his presence and dreaded the very prospect of having to speak to him.

Lomax, who was only twenty and on his first ever field assignment, had obviously placed both feet firmly in the latter camp. When the commander's eyes met his, he swallowed hard and looked down at his boots.

"Uh… Commander?" he said nervously.

Commander Ulrich narrowed his eyes. Whatever it was, it was standing in between him and his much-needed sleep. The irritating thing was that this interruption would almost certainly warrant his own personal attention… no, there was no delegating this time. Sleep would just have to wait.

"What is it_, _Lomax?" he barked, and saw the young scientist cringe.

"I'm really sorry to bother you, Commander," said Lomax sincerely, in the quietly terrified tones of someone now regretting ever having been born, "but we - well, uh, I was wondering if maybe you could - that is to say, uh…"

"Out with it, man!"

"I… I think we've found something, sir."

Ulrich froze, all thoughts of sleep suddenly forgotten.

"What? What have you found?" he demanded to know, so loudly that Lomax backed away, his face a mask of panic.

"Well, I, I don't really - I'm not entirely sure," he stammered. "Uh… I think you'd better take a look at this…"

xxxxxxxxxx

**Main Construction Site**

**Former Spencer Mansion Estate**

A beam of light probed the darkness between the trees, penetrating the cloak of blackness that seemed to surround the clearing on all sides. Leaves glowed green for an instant in the light, before being swept aside by a security guard.

The tree branch that he'd just pushed aside swung back with a loud rustle. He ignored the sound, and trudged on through the long, wet grass. Little noises didn't bother him much. They were to be expected in the forest, even at night. It was the big noises that bothered him, especially when he had to go beyond the glare of the floodlights to patrol the boundaries of the construction site.

Still, that was his job, wasn't it? The floodlights chased the shadows away, but they couldn't eradicate them completely. There still had to be people watching the place day and night, checking all the corners that the other security measures couldn't reach, ensuring that there was nothing on site that shouldn't be there.

Security had been a lot tighter as of late, he thought, as he stopped to brush fragments of wet leaves from his uniform. One of the other guards had told him yesterday that a teenage girl had wandered into the forest, and that she had been almost on the verge of stumbling across the site. She'd been stopped and escorted off the site by one of the management drones before she could get too close, but it had been a pretty close call - far too close for managerial comfort.

They'd put a fence around the perimeter yesterday. Two miles' worth of steel wire fence, ten feet high, for the benefit of the ignorant public and those to whom signs reading "Danger: Construction Site!", "Keep Out" and "Property of Umbrella Corporation" proved to be not so much a dire warning as an exciting challenge.

Just in case they still didn't get the message - or thought that "Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted" was a risk worth taking - the fence had been topped with barbed wire, to prevent them from getting any more funny ideas about trying to climb over. There were a few watch towers, too, for the purpose of further discouragement.

And if being shredded by barbed wire or shot by security didn't stop them, thought the security guard, then the guard dogs definitely would.

"Saves having to feed 'em, I guess," he said, under his breath.

Tucking his flashlight in between his knees, he fumbled in his pockets for a moment and took out a packet of cigarettes.

The guard selected the sole remaining cigarette and placed it between his lips. He glanced up at the fence, then struck a match on "Authorised Personnel Only". He lit the cigarette, cupping his hand to protect the little flame from the wind, then blew out the match and flicked it away into the dark, wet undergrowth.

With a sigh, he leaned against a tree. He glanced at his watch, noting that the time was exactly 2:02 AM, then looked up and watched the cold wind whip away the smoke from his nose and lips.

Without warning, a hand clamped down on his shoulder. The cigarette dropped from the man's mouth as he yelped in terror and spun round, pistol at the ready -

"Hey man, calm down! It's just me," laughed the other security guard, punching him in the arm. "What, did I scare ya?"

The security guard breathed out, at once relieved and deeply annoyed to see that nothing was wrong. He lowered his gun, and replaced it in its holster.

"The hell'd you do that for?" he said shortly, scowling at his companion.

"Wanted to see if you were paying attention," said the other man, with a smirk. "Can't have anybody slacking on the job now, can we? Constant vigilance, my friend. That's what counts. Don't want anybody sneaking past while your guard's down, do ya? You could lose a lot more than your cigarette next time."

"Yeah, right. That was my last one, too," said the guard resentfully, looking down at the sad little scrap of wet paper and soggy tobacco, now floating in a stagnant puddle by his feet.

"No worries, man. You can have one of mine."

The second guard produced a pack of cigarettes and handed them over to his colleague.

"Thanks," said the first one, with a grudging smile. They weren't the same, admittedly, but they were more expensive than the brand he usually smoked. That had to count for something. He lit one, then passed the packet back.

"So, seen any wayward schoolgirls trying to scale the fence?" joked the second guard.

The first guard shook his head.

"Nope. Nobody around except us chickens."

"Pity," said the second guard, with a chuckle. "I could do with the company."

"You're married."

"So?"

"… you're an asshole."

"Yeah, I get that every night at home. Pitch it a bit higher and you'll sound just like my wife. I need a divorce, man. I don't care if she leaves with half, I just want her out of the door. Bitch just won't shut up."

"Well at least you've got something in common."

"Will you shut your damn mouth if I give you another cigarette?"

"Sure, why not. I always said silence was golden."

The precious silence folded around them as they went quiet. After a while, their gaze was drawn back towards the brilliant white light of the floodlights, still visible through the trees.

"Why the hell are we guarding this place, anyway?" the first man said eventually. "I mean, it's not like it's a big deal if anyone gets in. There's nothing worth stealing, so why all the secrecy? For crying out loud, Carl, we're guarding a big hole in the ground! It's not even a _classified _hole in the ground! It's just a construction site for a damn company resort! Who cares?"

"Company resort, huh?" said the second one wryly. "Not what I heard."

The first security guard turned to look at the other.

"What are you talking about?"

"I heard it's some kind of experimental lab complex. One of the others caught a look at the architect's blueprints the other day, and he was telling me all about it."

"Yeah, right."

"Oh yeah? And how many spa resorts do _you _know with a morgue in the basement?"

"They - "

The first guard hesitated. He suddenly felt deeply unsettled, so much so that he didn't really know what to say in reply. Confusion and doubt were pulling apart every logical explanation that he could come up with. Nevertheless, he ploughed onwards:

"Well, I - I guess they have to have morgues in these places, in case some old fat guy suddenly drops dead in the gym or something. They've got a medical complex here too, so it would make sense… I mean, there's no hospital here for miles, now that Raccoon City's gone. They'd need somewhere to keep the body, right?"

"Sure, but what about the other forty-nine spaces?" came the reply.

"Forty-nine?"

"The expected capacity of that morgue is fifty, it said on the plans," continued his colleague. "Fifty people. That's a lot of old fat guys dropping dead in the gym, don't you think?"

"Maybe that's the minimum capacity required by law, for a place this size with a big medical complex?" said the first guard, falteringly. "I mean, maybe they need it, in case there's s-some kind of, uh… I don't know, an epidemic or something."

The other guard just shook his head.

"I dunno, Larry. Maybe you're right. But I still get the feeling there's something weird about this place. How come there's a big hole in the ground here, anyway? What happened to whatever was here before?"

The first guard silently cursed his overactive imagination.

"I don't know," he said quietly, trying all the while to keep the unwelcome thoughts out of his head. "And to be honest, I'm not so sure I want to find ou- "

There was a rustle, loud and sudden in the darkness. Again he felt the tight grip on his shoulder, but this time it was joined by the sound of the other guard hissing frantically in his ear, telling him to keep quiet. He broke off, trembling, and turned to look at the rain-drenched forest beyond the fence.

"What?" he whispered.

They stepped forward cautiously and, pressing their faces against the fence, peered out into the whispering night.

"I thought I heard something…"

xxxxxxxxxx

**1562 Arklay Mountain Drive, Arklay**

The clock outside in the hall was chiming two. It was slow and not exactly up to the minute, but then it had been a wedding present from her grandparents, who had also been slow and rather behind the times, so it seemed fitting to leave the clock as it was.

The only real difference, thought Belinda Johnson, as she sat and waited for the kettle to boil, was that her grandparents had been considerably more than three minutes behind the rest of the world. In the last few years of his life, Granddad had been convinced that the Cold War was still going on and that those Russians needed teaching a damn good lesson; Granny, on the other hand, had eschewed modern times out of choice, due to her firm belief that everything had been much better in 1924. Even now, she was probably complaining that eternal rest wasn't as restful as it used to be, and that they'd really known how to make coffins back in the old days.

It was funny, really, the things that came to mind at this time of night. She hadn't thought about Granny and Granddad for years… of all the memories the night could have brought back to her, it was strange that she should think of two people long dead, people that she hadn't even known that well.

She wished, just for a second, that she'd made the effort to get to know them better. Then again, considering that the tag on the gift-wrapped clock had been addressed to "Tom and Beryl, on their golden wedding anniversary", it probably wouldn't have been worth the effort of constantly reminding them who she was.

The rumble of boiling water reached a crescendo, and Belinda got up to switch off the kettle. With practised movements that were almost second nature, she went through the nightly routine, creating the same small, familiar sounds that she made every time the kettle finished boiling. The clink of the china mug on the kitchen counter; the rushing of hot water as it poured from the kettle; the hiss of sugar and coffee grounds; a small trickle of milk; then the steady clink-clink-clink of the metal spoon swirling in the mug, stirring the hot liquid and bringing it to a golden-brown colour, before being removed and laid to rest on the counter with a very final tap.

Belinda picked up the mug of coffee, took a sip, then counted slowly to ten. She was soon rewarded with the sound of faint movement upstairs in her bedroom. There was a cough, then a little whimpering sound, which quickly became an indignant wail. Ginny had woken up and, outraged that her mother wasn't there to immediately attend to her every whim and will, had decided that the best way to bring Mummy rushing to her side was to scream the place down.

_Right on time, as always, _she thought, with a sigh. _All part of the routine now. After eighteen years, I really should be getting used to this__…_

"Coming, poppet," she called, hitching up her long nightgown and hurrying back up the stairs, taking care not to spill her coffee on the way up.

She climbed the last step, then turned left at the top of the stairs. She grasped the doorknob with her free hand and turned it.

"Linda?" called a sleepy voice from inside the bedroom.

"It's all right, Terry, I just went downstairs to get some coffee," Belinda answered, struggling to make herself heard over the sound of Ginny's yelling without resorting to shouting herself. There was no need to wake up the rest of her family at this uncivilised hour. "What's the matter with Ginny? Does she need changing?"

There was a second's hesitation, then:

"Looks like it, yes."

Belinda sighed. This was not what she wanted to hear at two in the morning.

"All right," she said wearily. "I'll be there in a second…"

"No, it's all right, love," came the reply. "You go back downstairs and finish your coffee if you want. I'll sort her out."

"You sure?"

"_Yes_, dear. If I can manage my own tax returns, then I can change a baby without much difficulty. You have your coffee in peace for once."

"Thanks, love," said Belinda, feeling profoundly thankful that for once, she was being relieved of the burden of twenty-four hour childcare. "I'll be up in a minute. Just going to turn everything off downstairs."

She descended the stairs again and went back into the kitchen. It was her favourite room in the house; warm, bright, and small enough to be cosy, but big enough not to feel cramped. It had been painted a cheery buttercup yellow by the previous owners - one of the few good things that they'd done to the place, in her opinion - and the family's pine kitchen furniture had fitted into it very nicely.

The everyday clutter of family life was everywhere. Someone's denim jacket was draped carelessly over the back of a kitchen chair, the kitchen table was covered in crumbs, and there were messy scribbles of red and green crayon across the lower half of the wall. Even the fridge had some blobby children's paintings taped to the door, and magnetic letters spelling "ProPerTy of Luke johNson" covering what little white space was left. To some, the presence of all this detritus would have seemed oppressive; Belinda, however, found it quite comforting.

She brushed some crumbs from one of the chairs and sat down. For a while she stayed there, drinking her coffee and quietly enjoying the stillness around her. Although she liked to keep busy and loved spending time with her family, she'd almost forgotten how nice it was to have an occasional moment's peace.

Before long, there was barely enough coffee to cover the bottom of the mug, and Belinda felt the moment of peaceful solitude drawing to an end. She smiled wistfully and drained the last of the coffee.

"Well, back to bed, then," she said aloud.

The kitchen chair scraped back along the tiles as she got up. She rinsed out the mug and placed it beside the kitchen sink. As she left the kitchen, she switched off the light and closed the door on the darkness filling the room.

_Thud_.

The noise stopped her halfway up the stairs. Panic stirred in her breast.

"Terry? Is Ginny all right?" she called, her voice sounding oddly strangled as the words came out.

"She's fine, Lind. Good as gold. Why?"

The relief that her husband's reply brought was immediate. Belinda breathed out and felt the tension in her chest starting to unwind.

"I thought I heard something upstairs, that's all," she said.

"Do you want me to go and check on the kids?"

"No, don't worry, I'll do it. Just put Ginny back in her cot and tuck her in for the night. I'll be there now."

Belinda realised that she'd frozen and that her foot was still hanging in mid-air, halfway to the next step. She shook herself and, lowering her foot, continued the climb up the staircase. The steep pitch was manageable and she wasn't afraid of heights, but it was certainly beginning to make her wish that she was ten years younger. She reached the top, paused for breath, then carried on towards the end of the landing.

The door at the far end of the hallway belonged to her eldest daughter. It opened onto a fluffy, bubblegum-pink world of gossip, pop culture, make-up, this season's latest fashions, endless strings of boyfriends and celebrity crushes, and everything else that beautiful, vain, capricious Melinda was about.

Nothing appeared to be amiss. The brightly-lit room looked, as always, as though a bomb had hit it - though the bomb in question had probably contained a mixture of fluffy cushions, overpriced shoes and glossy fashion magazines. Boy bands and handsome, well-groomed celebrities stared down at her from every wall, and the floor was strewn with clothes, hair accessories, CD cases, bottles of pink nail polish, and a few well-thumbed copies of _Vogue_.

Belinda frowned. She didn't mind a room that looked lived-in, but there really was no excuse for having a bedroom this messy. She pushed aside a hairdryer and a discarded cerise bra with her toe, and made her way over to Melinda's bed. The girl's face was a slightly unsettling shade of pale green…

Belinda couldn't help smiling. Her daughter was a big fan of DIY beauty treatments; she was obviously trying out another face mask overnight. The whole thing was unnecessary, because Mel was one of the prettiest seventeen-year-olds she'd ever seen, but she didn't really blame the girl for wanting to keep things that way.

"I'll leave you to it, Sleeping Beauty," murmured Belinda, and switched the light off as she left the room.

On her right, as she walked back down the landing, was her son's room. The door was ajar - even at nine years old, Luke preferred to see the landing light through his open bedroom door. She pushed the door open a little wider and saw a neat expanse of navy-blue carpet, interrupted only by a small pile of folded clothes next to the bunk-bed. Their owner was fast asleep in the top bunk, enjoying the rest that he'd earned after two solid hours spent tidying his room.

Again Belinda smiled. She'd been a bit worried that Luke might have fallen out of bed again, but he appeared to be quite comfortable. Mel and Ginny were fine too, so that only left -

_Oh, no._

She turned and hurried towards her other daughter's room, which was almost right opposite the stairs.

_Please,_ she prayed silently, _don__'__t let anything be wrong with Ellie__…_

She worried about Ellie all the time. Her second daughter's obvious reluctance to want to have anything to do with her new home bothered her, of course, but what worried her most was the state of her daughter's health. There had been no family history of diabetes, so the diagnosis had come right out of the blue, and perhaps unsurprisingly, Ellie hadn't taken it well at all. Her phobia of needles had been a major problem, as had her refusal to believe that anything was really wrong with her, and her initial reluctance to take her medication had resulted in several near-misses already. Though she was getting better now, and attended every single appointment at the clinic without fail, there was always the fear that she would forget to take her insulin one day, or let her blood sugar fall too low…

The bedroom light was still on. The smell of rain had entered the room through the open window, and a light breeze was making the punk posters on the walls rustle gently. Ellie was sprawled across her bed, fully-dressed, her eyes closed; scattered around the room were little piles of the old newspapers she'd asked for. Some more newspapers were sitting next to her on the bed, while another stack had fallen off the end of the bed and landed on the floor… which probably accounted for the thud that she'd heard.

"Ellie…?" said Belinda softly, kneeling next to the bed and gently shaking her daughter by the shoulder.

Ellie stirred. One blue eye opened, followed by the other, then she raised her head. Still half-asleep, she murmured:

" 'tis it, Mum?"

"You took your insulin, didn't you, love?"

" 'es."

"You're sure?"

"Mm-hmm…"

Belinda nodded, trying not to look too relieved. Ellie looked quizzically at her mother for a moment, then yawned.

"I thought I told you not to stay up all night reading," Belinda told her daughter firmly.

"S'rry, Mum."

"You _know _you've got school in the morning."

"Mmm."

"Well, come on then. Get changed and get to bed, or you'll be good for nothing tomorrow. And you've left your window open again. You're going to catch your death of cold, you know."

"S'rry."

"That's all right. I'll do it. You get yourself to bed."

" 'nk you."

After a few false starts, Ellie managed to get changed into her pyjamas, and she stumbled clumsily back into bed. Her mother smiled, shifted the rest of the newspapers onto the floor, and tucked her daughter in.

"Night, love."

"Night, Mum…"

Belinda kissed Ellie on the forehead. She was about to leave the room when she felt a gust of wind behind her, and realised that she'd forgotten to close the window.

She went back, reached over the bed and pulled the window shut. For a moment she stood and stared out at the world beyond the glass - the silhouettes of the mountains against the black sky, and the wet, dark forest that stretched away further than the eye could see.

There was a faint glimmer of white light shining somewhere in the forest. She didn't know what it was, and could only guess at what was causing it. Hunters? A bunch of kids setting up camp in the woods? A search and rescue team, looking for lost hikers? It could have been anything.

There was a very faint noise, hardly audible through the glass. It sounded as though it had come from somewhere in the direction of the forest - a faint, eerie cry, more animal than human, though for a moment, she'd thought it sounded like a scream…

She shivered involuntarily. She'd heard the stories about the attacks over the summer, and wild, unlikely tales of strange things in the woods. They were probably rubbish, of course, but who knew what was really out there?

There was another scream, this time much closer to home.

"Linda?" came her husband's voice from the next room, a moment later. "Ginny's yelling about something, but I don't know what she wants."

"All right, sweetheart, I'm coming," she answered.

She turned away from the window and left the room, turning off the light as she went. As she closed the door, she heard another tiny, distant cry from somewhere out in the night, and felt another shudder down her spine.

_What on earth was that__…__?_

xxxxxxxxxx

… _an all-too familiar bed. Sunlight pouring through the windows. A room in a house in a town that shouldn__'__t still exist__…_

Lisa's heart sank. Once again, she was back in Raccoon City, on the day that her whole world went to hell.

Every night, it was the same dream. She'd come downstairs, have breakfast with her zombie parents, and end up getting herself killed. She'd get a little further each time she went through the nightmare, but the end result was always the same.

_But not this time_, she told herself firmly, to quell the fear that was already rising within her as she walked down the stairs. This time, she'd do things right and make it out alive, so she could wake up from this unspeakable dream without screaming.

History repeated itself, as it always did, and before long she was watching the breakfast table scene unfolding before her. She knew that in another second or two, this innocuous situation would metamorphose into a living hell that would only release her when it had claimed her as its own. And the worst part of it all, she thought, was having to sit here helplessly, powerless to avert disaster or to prevent herself from being incorporated once again into this terrible nightly ritual.

_Make it stop, _she wanted to scream. _Oh God, please make it stop! Don't make me do this again!_

But it seemed that nothing could stop this dream in its tracks. It was as though she had been cursed; condemned to perform this macabre ceremony again and again for all eternity, as punishment for some unknowable, unspeakable crime committed in her past.

As she watched her parents rise from the table and stretch out their arms towards her, Lisa wondered what she could possibly have done to deserve such a sentence. Surely shooting her zombified parents couldn't warrant a lifetime of nightmares?

"Join us…"

Lisa yelled something unintelligible but defiant at the two zombies, and ran through the kitchen door before it could lock itself. She slammed the door behind her, trapping the two walking corpses inside the kitchen - for a minute or two, anyway. She knew that the door wouldn't hold them back for much longer.

And now here she was again, standing in the hall at the foot of the stairs. She could hear the phone ringing endlessly in the hall, and the scrabbling of fingernails on wood as her dead parents tried to claw down the kitchen door. The two sounds together had led to her undoing last time, but this time she knew better than to pay them heed.

_Don't look back. Don't answer the phone. Just run…_

Shaking all over, Lisa ran to the front door and pulled it open. She had only a few seconds to check that the street outside was clear before the kitchen door came crashing down in splinters behind her. The sound alone was enough to propel Lisa through the front door, out onto the porch and down the steps with one long, uninterrupted scream.

She was out in the front yard now. It had been brilliant daytime just moments ago, but the sky had darkened the minute she crossed the threshold, and now the cold night air bit into her with teeth of invisible ice. Gasping in the sudden cold, Lisa had to stop for a moment to rub warmth back into her frozen arms, before finally making a mad dash for the front gate. She cut across the dew-soaked lawn, trampling flowers underfoot in her desperate bid for freedom and trying to ignore the fact that she was running barefoot - first over wet grass and mud, and then the sharp gravel of the drive.

A sound made Lisa stop just outside the gates. She looked up. The sky overhead was black with clouds, and a flock of crows was starting to circle high above her. They probably weren't a threat - yet - but it would be a bad idea to stick around too long.

"Join us!"

She could hear her parents' rasping voices calling her from somewhere inside the house, but she knew that there was no saving them now. It was too late to even try. She kept running until her parents' voices faded into the distance, but now there were more plaintive voices calling out her name. Friends from school - Julie, Justin, Alex, Paul and all the others, all dead - were calling her, reaching out to her with rotting arms.

Somehow she managed to avoid the outstretched arms, the grasping fingers and bloodied hands clutching vainly at the edge of her nightgown, and she ran until she had left the streets of uptown Raccoon City far behind her.

She was in downtown now, and she could see Aunt Rosa and the Street Rats skating serenely through the burning streets, on skateboards that had been broken and taped back together. They, too, shared the ghost-like pallor and terrible wounds of the dead.

"¡_Hola_, Lisa! Join us!" they called.

Again she yelled defiance and kept running, screaming Jack's name in the desperate hope that her beloved best friend would come and save her -

Lisa found herself knocked suddenly to the ground as Amber, Dr Harlech and Renée barged past in a different direction, on their way somewhere else; they didn't hear her calling them, and by the time she found the strength to get to her feet, they'd disappeared without trace.

_This isn__'__t right,_ she kept thinking, as she picked herself up. _Where__'__s Jack? He should be here by now__…__ where is he? I have to find him, or I__'__ll never get out__…_

Faster and faster she ran, through the sewers and past the old hospital, the park and the clock tower, searching desperately for Jack. Zombies kept reaching out to grab her as she ran past them, but they were far too slow to catch her, far too slow…

And then, without warning, the world changed, and she found herself standing in the old bomb shelter that lay deep in the hidden concrete underbelly of the Umbrella building. To her horror, Jack was lying on the floor, barely conscious, with blood seeping through a bandage on his right arm.

He was so pale - shivering violently, his eyes bright and feverish, his forehead burning. The purplish bruises on his forearm had spread upwards, reaching almost to his shoulder. She knew that he was dying, but there was still time to save him. Somewhere upstairs there was a vaccine, and once she found it, she could make him well again. The vaccine was the only way to make this nightmare end….

Lisa turned and ran as fast as she could, climbing the ladder to the floor above and throwing open door after endless door until she finally found the right one. Janice Redmond's laboratory - and lying inside it, Janice Redmond's body, with a small vial of vaccine resting in the palm of her hand. She snatched the vial away from the dead woman and, clutching it tightly to her chest, ran back down the long, shadowy corridor to the shelter where Jack lay dying.

She was almost at his side when the ceiling collapsed in a shower of plaster and brickwork.

"KILL!"

Lucifer burst up through the pile of debris and grabbed Lisa by the throat, lifting her up into the air. She tried to scream as her feet left the ground, but she couldn't breathe. There was only one way out of this death grip -

The creature roared as she smashed the vial of vaccine in its face, and dissolved into dust. Ashes rained down around her as she hit the ground; she sat up gingerly, nursing her bruises, and groaned. She'd survived - barely - but now she had to go back and find another vaccine for Jack.

_But how?_

She blinked, and this time her eyes opened on another laboratory, brand new but for some reason, set in the ruins of an old house in the woods. There was no ceiling except the forest canopy, no floor that wasn't long green grass, and the walls had crumbled, but all the equipment was still there, wreathed in evening mist but otherwise as pristine as though it had just been delivered.

Lisa braved the grasp of a dead researcher and lunged towards a sparkling object on a table. She came away triumphantly clutching her prize - a second vial of vaccine - only to have it snatched from her hand and borne away on the wings of a pigeon.

"No!" she shrieked, and tried to grab the bird, but then something grabbed her around the neck and lifted her up into the air, just as Lucifer had done.

She looked down in terror into the face of something more hideous than even her former nemesis. This time, she had nothing to defend herself with, and even if she had, she had no idea how she could even begin to fight against this new and terrible creature.

"Now what?" said a voice in her ear, and she turned her head just in time to see the impassive face of a tall, black-clad man with golden hair and eyes that burned like fire.

"There's no escape for you this time, Miss Hartley," he told her solemnly. "You're going to die."

"What about Jack?" Lisa said hoarsely.

"You're too late. He's already dead."

"_No! You're lying!_"Lisa screamed, but the man just laughed and disappeared in a cloud of feathers. Pigeons flew everywhere, and as they circled around her, she saw that each bird had the same burning eyes.

The monster's fingers were tightening slowly around her throat. Death was becoming almost irresistible now. How much easier it would be, Lisa thought, to give up and let the battle against suffocation end…

Though it was getting harder and harder to concentrate on anything except the effort of staying alive, Lisa could just make out the shape of another figure emerging from the mist. It was the Pigeon Lady, walking calmly through the trees, carrying Jack in her skinny arms.

"Giving up so soon?" the old woman said, shaking her head in disappointment. She tutted disapprovingly, then dropped Jack's body onto the forest floor. "No, you can't do that. I told you already, Lisa. You'll have to fight your way out if you want to leave Arklay alive…"

With that, she disappeared into the mist that surrounded the trees. Lisa saw Jack open his eyes and he tried to sit up, but then he slumped back, lifeless, into the grass. The stranger in black was right. She was too late, and now there was nobody to save her. They were both dead, all because she hadn't fought hard enough…

"No," she croaked, as the monster's fingers closed tighter and the darkness of oblivion drew in. "Don't go… come back! Don't leave us here! Help us! Please!"

And with one final breath came her own oblivion.

"_Please…!"_

xxxxxxxxxx

**2241B Pinewood Avenue, Arklay**

Unable to cope with the horror of letting herself die, Lisa's mind snapped her out of the nightmare. Her eyes shot open and she sat up with a strangled cry, looking around in panic until she realised that she was safe in bed, with not so much as an unfriendly pigeon to be seen.

Her breath came in short, deep gasps at first, until the feeling of constriction that she'd imagined around her throat had gone completely. Now her breathing was slower and freer, completely unhindered by imagined hands or the paralysis of fear.

She breathed in deeply, once more, then let it out again in a long, shuddering breath. Halfway through, the shudder caught in her chest and the feeling of tightness around her heart came out as a choking sob.

"Lise…? Whuz wrong, babe?"

The familiar voice was thick with sleep, but it had the effect of waking Lisa up – properly this time. She looked, and saw Jack lying beside her, looking a little dazed at having been woken so unexpectedly. All that had initially been visible of him had been some rumpled blond hair and his hand resting gently on the pillow, but now he was emerging from his little cocoon of sheets and quilt like a scruffy-looking butterfly. Bedclothes rustled as he extricated himself from the folds of blanket, and he sat up, blinking, beside her.

She remembered now that she hadn't been left to suffer the nightmare alone. On the contrary, Jack had refused to leave her side after the prowler's visit, and Lisa had been so shaken by the incident that she had instantly agreed that he ought to stay close by. His intention had been to sit next to her on the bed until she fell asleep, but in the end it had been his eyes that closed first, so Lisa had pulled the covers over them both and curled up next to him. After a while, she'd fallen asleep too, and forgotten that he was even there…

Not since the events of Raccoon City had she been so relieved to see him alive and well, with eyes open and colour in his cheeks. She laid a trembling hand on his arm.

"Lise? You 'kay?"

The sight of her slightly bemused boyfriend trying to figure things out just after being woken up would have made her laugh under normal circumstances. Confused, he was studying her expression and attempting to make sense of it all, blinking several times as he tried to keep himself awake.

"Jack…?" said Lisa slowly, reaching out to touch his face and convince herself again that he really was there. She was terrified that all this might not be real. She wasn't even sure if she was awake. Perhaps she was still stuck in the nightmare, and any minute now she'd wake up properly and find him lying dead in a mess of tangled sheets and pillows…

He felt real. Her fingers traced the contours of the face she'd grown to love. Even in the dimmest light, she could tell it was him. She didn't have to look, not when she could reach out and find the familiar face by touch alone - or even by scent, now that she thought about it. The unmistakable scent of Jack filled the air around her, aftershave and warm skin and a faint hint of chocolate; it was the sweetest smell in the world, and she inhaled it gratefully.

Finally, Lisa ran her fingers through Jack's hair. Only then was she convinced that what she could see, smell and touch was completely real.

"Jack… you're all right," she said slowly.

"Course I be 'kay," he replied, sounding puzzled. "Why?"

"I – I dreamed you were…"

The bad dream came flooding back all at once; already overwhelmed by the horror that she'd experienced within the confines of her own head, Lisa had no strength left to keep the fear locked away inside. Eyes wet with tears, she put her arms around Jack and hugged him tightly, then started sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder.

Jack's expression was invisible to her, but she could see it in her mind's eye - the initial puzzlement on his face, quickly giving way to tender concern, and then to a quiet dismay. She felt his arms fold around her, drawing her closer to him, then he kissed the top of her head and held her tightly.

"Hey, hey. Dunt cry, _querida,_" he murmured into her ear. "Dunt cry. I got you."

At first Lisa couldn't think of anything to say. How could she even begin to describe what she'd seen, or how much it had frightened her? It may have been a dream, yes, but was there any truth in it, or was it just the product of a long and difficult day? She didn't know, and it was the uncertainty that bothered her most of all. But if she told Jack that she was worrying about whether or not to be worried, then he'd only tell her not to get so worked-up, and that worrying about something like that was stupid. There was only one thing of which she was now certain…

"I don't want to lose you, Jack…!"

"Lise," Jack told her firmly, kissing her on the forehead, "I dunt know what you see in that dream of yours, but whatever it be, it ain't real. We both have a long day today an' we see a lot of stuff that prob'ly give you weird dreams, like that crazy old lady an' that guy on the balcony. But you got nothin' to be scared of. I ain't gonna let nothin' happen to you, you know that."

Lisa had to admit that this last point was true. The Pigeon Lady and the man in black had both shown up today, so maybe their presence in her dream wasn't so much symbolic as coincidental. Even the Pigeon Lady's parting words had been the same ones that she'd heard today. As for the monster… well, it was just a slightly garbled memory of Lucifer, that was all. There weren't any monsters around here, not any more.

"But what about you?" she said, hesitating to dismiss a possible premonition. She'd thought that the last one she'd had was only a dream, but then Lucifer had shown up and tried to kill them, if not in the time and place that she'd expected. What if this nightmare, too, was meant to serve as a revelation of things to come?

_I know you wouldn't let anything happen to me, but what about you, Jack? What if something happens to you first?_

"Dunt you worry 'bout me," said Jack, hugging her. "You ain't gonna lose me any time soon. No if I got anythin' to do with it. I love you an' I ain't goin' nowhere without you. We gonna stick together, an' we gonna take care of each other, right?"

Lisa nodded, and let him wipe the tears away from her eyes. Suddenly, she felt a little stronger.

"Right," she murmured.

_I'm not going to let you anywhere near Raccoon Forest, for one thing,_ she added silently._ Dream or no dream, I'm not letting you get into harm's way just because I didn't have enough sense to listen to a warning. Not after what happened last time._

"I'm sorry I woke you," she said, as an afterthought.

"'S okay," said Jack, yawning. "Long as you be okay now."

"Thank you."

"_Ningun problema, mi amor_," said Jack, with a sleepy smile. "Anythin' for my Lise."

"_Te amo_," Lisa said, raising a hand to touch Jack's cheek.

The words sounded stilted somehow, faltering, not at all like the smooth flow of words that Jack seemed to let loose so effortlessly. Nevertheless, she felt more than a little proud of the smile that suddenly lit up Jack's face, and she quietly resolved to work harder at learning Spanish.

"… that was right, wasn't it?" she said, a little nervously. The smile was still there, but now Jack was staring at her. She was starting to wonder if she'd said the wrong thing when Jack wrinkled his nose - it was a habit of his that she'd noticed recently, something that he did whenever he was feeling particularly happy and affectionate - and said:

"Dunt think I coulda said that better myself."

Lisa was about to smile and say something sweet in reply when she found herself being kissed. Surprised but nonetheless quietly thrilled, she returned the kiss with a vengeance, pressing her lips against Jack's and letting her arms slide around his shoulders.

The kiss seemed to be taking on a life of its own now; even if they'd wanted to stop, parting company now seemed completely unthinkable, even impossible. For one long, breathless, perfect moment, there was nothing but Jack, Lisa and a passionate, neverending kiss, taking place in solitude and the soft darkness of the room. Even if there had been anything else, it wouldn't have mattered at all.

There was nothing in the world, thought Lisa dreamily, as they dropped back into the pillows, still holding onto each other tightly, that could ever have surpassed the beauty of that moment. Not that she would have wanted to go looking anyway, she told herself, as she watched Jack fall asleep again. She had all the beauty she needed, right here…

She lay awake for some time, with Jack's arms still wrapped around her chest, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing and watching the clock on the bedside table tick its way from 2:04 to 2:05.

"I'll keep you safe," she whispered to her sleeping boyfriend. "It's just like you said. We're going to stick together, aren't we? We're going to take care of each other. You watch over me, and I'll watch over you."

Just before her eyes closed, she felt doubt stirring faintly within her. She tried to ignore it, so that it wouldn't dispel the feeling of warmth and peace that surrounded her, but all the same she could feel the treacherous little thought starting to form in the back of her mind:

_But we both have to sleep sometime… who'll watch over us then?_

On the other side of the bedroom window, sitting on the windowsill just at the place where there was a gap in the curtains, there was a flurry of feathers and the sound of something whirring away into the night.

Had Jack and Lisa been awake to see, they might well have believed the thing now flapping away over the rooftops to be none other than a bedraggled grey pigeon...


	8. Truth And Consequences

**8: Truth And Consequences**

Lisa opened her eyes, blinked once or twice, then smiled. No bad dreams this time around. Things were looking up.

She pushed herself up into a sitting position, then risked a glance at the alarm clock. It was just after eight; by now, she should be getting ready to start the day. However, the bed was comfortable and she'd slept badly last night. She let her head sink back gently into the pillows, and turned over until she was lying on her back again.

It seemed that she was in good company. Beside her, Jack was still asleep, and though he'd stirred a little just now, he appeared to be in no hurry to wake up. Lisa decided to let him sleep for a little longer.

_This is so weird, _she thought, as she turned onto her side to look at him. _Nice, but weird. I bet Mom and Dad would have freaked out if they'd thought I'd end up sleeping in the same bed as Jack Carpenter someday._

Not that her parents' opinions mattered very much any more, she thought, rather sadly. They were dead now, so even if they disapproved of her living under the same roof as him, they weren't in much of a position to do anything about it.

Jack frowned suddenly, then muttered something that she didn't quite catch and shifted position. As he moved, Lisa caught sight of the long, ugly scar that ran along his right forearm - a permanent reminder of his ordeal in Raccoon City, and the extraordinary lengths to which he'd gone to keep her safe. In the end, fortune had been on his side and he'd made it out alive… but he hadn't escaped unscathed. No, the horrors of Raccoon City had left their mark on Jack, in more ways than one.

_He's not the only one_, thought Lisa, as she stroked his tousled blond hair. The unspeakable legacy of Raccoon City had been bequeathed to her, too. The scars weren't outwardly visible, but they were there all the same, and they would remain with her long after her bruises had healed.

Nightmares. As if the awful memories that plagued her every waking moment weren't enough, she kept dying in her dreams…

Perhaps it wasn't enough to have survived in real life, she thought gloomily. Perhaps she really _did _have to keep doing this every night, over and over again, until she finally got it right. And if she didn't succeed somehow in her quest to escape the Raccoon City of her mind, a place wreathed forever in smoke and shadows, then there would be no respite, no rescue, no redemption… just the perpetual curse of the city of the dead, coming back to haunt her as soon as night fell on Arklay.

_I just wish I knew why…_

Jack looked as though he was struggling with nightmares of his own. He kept shifting position and mumbling angrily in his sleep. Lisa wasn't sure if he'd been revisiting his former home with quite as much frequency as she had, but if she was any judge, then this was another imaginary battle with monsters that no longer existed.

"Poor baby," Lisa murmured, running her fingertips gently along the length of the livid scar, as if doing so could somehow make the skin beneath her fingers heal.

The alarm clock shrilled. Unprepared for the sound of broken silence, Lisa jumped, and one of her fingernails caught in Jack's arm.

"Agh!"

Jack's eyes flew open and he sat up with a yell, startling Lisa once again. He looked no less surprised by this rude awakening; all the colour had drained from his cheeks, and several seconds had elapsed before he managed to catch his breath.

"Somethin' just take a bite outta me!" he exclaimed at last, turning his arm to inspect the damage.

Lisa caught sight of the little mark on Jack's arm and winced. Her fingernail had cut right into him, just deep enough to draw a tiny smear of blood from the wound.

"No, Jack, that was me," she admitted, leaning over to stop the alarm clock. "Sorry."

Jack looked for a moment as though he was having trouble trying to work this out.

"You take a bite outta me? Why?" he said at last, sounding rather hurt. "What'd I do, kick you outta bed or somethin'? Jeez, Lise, you coulda just _said_."

"No, it was an accident," said Lisa, trying not to smile at this. "I didn't mean to hurt you. My fingernail scratched you when the alarm clock went off."

"You _fingernail_?" said Jack incredulously, looking at the oozing cut and then back at his apologetic girlfriend. "Jeez, Lise, those ain't fingernails - you got claws! You oughta cut those down a little, _chica, _or you gonna take my whole arm off next time…"

Jack pulled back the covers and got out of bed. Lisa watched as he walked across the room and out into the hallway, still grumbling under his breath. After a moment, she got up and followed him.

"How come you girls keep you nails so long anyway?" she heard him call indignantly from the bathroom, as she shut the bedroom door behind her. "They make you look like cats."

"For catfights, of course," replied Lisa with a faint smile, and heard a snort from the bathroom that could have been amusement or derision. "What are you doing?"

"Cleanin' this up," came the reply.

"What?" Lisa called back, half-laughing. "For a tiny little cut like that? It's hardly even there!"

She couldn't make out Jack's reply, which was muffled by the echo from the bathroom tiles, but she gathered from his tone of voice that he wasn't complimenting her on her powers of deduction.

"Honestly, Jack," she said, walking up to the half-closed bathroom door and pushing it open. "I know it must have hurt, but surely it can't have been that bad."

"Yeah, well, I can always return the favour sometime," Jack retorted. He was standing by the sink, dabbing fretfully at the cut on his arm with a wadded-up piece of wet tissue. "I bet you scream the place down if you be dreamin' 'bout zombies an' then someone dig their nail into you. I bet if I do that to you then you freak out, big time."

He turned off the faucet, looked critically at the little spot of crimson on the tissue, then threw it into the wastebasket without a second glance.

"I probably would," said Lisa ruefully, looking down. "Sorry."

"Hey, dunt worry. You just scare me more'n anythin'," said Jack, with a shrug. "Dint hurt that bad. You really oughta cut you nails, though, Lise, or I gonna start callin' you Catwoman."

"Meow," said Lisa sweetly, and Jack laughed.

"Silly kitty," he said, putting his arms around her shoulders. "You better play nice from now on, or you gonna have to find youself a new scratchin' post. _Que hora es,_ anyway?"

"About five past eight," called Lisa, as Jack went back into her bedroom. She followed him in, adding, "Don't worry, we've got plenty of time."

"You owe me _big _for wakin' me up like that," Jack replied. "Almost scare me half to death. You gonna make the bed or what?"

"You were the first one up," said Lisa.

"So? You be the last one out of bed," said Jack. "An' it ain't my bed anyway. So why the hell I be doin' this? I gonna get anythin' out of this deal?"

"All right, Jack, I'll pay you back!" said Lisa, exasperated.

Jack grinned.

"With what?" he said.

"One of these," said Lisa, kissing him on the cheek. "Fair?"

"Sound like a fair deal to me," Jack agreed, replacing the pillows. He picked up the alarm clock and examined it for a moment.

"Consider it done, then," said Lisa. "I'm going to make some coffee. What do you want for breakfast?"

"Uh, Lise," said Jack, after a considerable pause had followed, "I dunt think we got time. It ain't five past eight no more. Accordin' to this, we oughta be in the middle of breakfast right now."

He turned the alarm clock's face towards Lisa for the benefit of her inspection, and Lisa groaned. Jack was right; they were already running late. They'd be very lucky to get to school on time now, unless they threw on the nearest available clothes, skipped breakfast and hurried out of the door right away. Even then, she thought, they would probably be cutting it pretty fine.

"I guess I'll just have to owe you one, Jack," she said regretfully. "Sorry."

Jack put the alarm clock back down on the nightstand. He looked at it for a moment, then smiled and kissed Lisa softly on the cheek.

"You dunt owe me a thing, _querida_," he told her.

"Glad to hear it," said Lisa, getting up and grabbing an armful of clean clothes from her closet. "Now shoo, I'm getting dressed. Go get changed too."

Jack nodded and got up to leave.

"Go on, _quick_, or we'll be late!" she urged him, pushing him out through the door. "Come on, I thought girls were the ones who took forever to get ready in the mornings!"

"I ain't sayin' _nothin'_," laughed Jack, on his way out.

"Good! Now hurry up!"

xxxxxxxxxx

As usual, Ellie's alarm clock had done an admirable job of rousing her from a deep sleep. Though its owner had only managed to stay awake for a few moments, this had been just long enough for her to reach over to her CD player and press Play, then retreat drowsily into the warmth of her bedclothes.

Her second wake-up call had turned out to be rather louder than she'd anticipated; it had startled her so much that she'd fallen out of bed, and people living several streets away had probably done exactly the same thing. Surprisingly, however, the hills were alive with the sound of music for a full five minutes before the neighbours started complaining about the noise.

It was probably some kind of record, thought Ellie, as she finished tying her shoelaces. Normally they were banging on the front door and demanding silence within the space of a minute.

_Typical_. _They would have to go and start getting used to it now, after complaining about the noise for months. I'm just sorry that Mum and Dad didn't send me back home to live with Gran and Granddad, just to shut the neighbours up. They kept saying they would..._

As she put on her backpack, Ellie looked up at a poster of a little-known North London punk band, which had been pinned firmly to the wall beside her bedroom door.

"It's not fair," she said plaintively, to the poster. "All I wanted was to be sent home in disgrace. Is that so much to ask?"

The unwavering sneers on the band members' faces indicated that this was probably asking far too much of an unfair world.

"Guess you're right, guys," Ellie said quietly. "I'm stuck here, aren't I?"

There was no reply - not that she'd expected one. She wondered for a moment what would have happened if the four angry young men depicted in A2 size were able to reply, then decided that the frontman would almost certainly have rolled his eyes and said "Course you are, you daft cow," while the others smirked in the background and made unhelpful comments.

Resigning herself to the imaginary jeers of her former heroes, Ellie turned her back on the poster and made a quick circuit of the room, plucking old socks and discarded items of clothing up from the carpet. After some thought, she also picked up the old newspaper that she'd fallen asleep reading. She dropped it onto the pile of dirty laundry on her bed, scooped everything up, and went downstairs - travelling, as always, via the banister.

"Ellie! Now come on, you _know_ you're not meant to do that!" her mother yelled from the kitchen. "I've told you enough times now! If you break that banister, there's going to be _big _trouble!"

"All right, Mum," called Ellie, as she landed neatly at the foot of the stairs.

" "All right, Mum" is all very well, my girl, but you'll be the one complaining when you're paying to have it fixed! Now don't you do that again, or you'll be sorry you did!"

"All _right_, Mum," Ellie groaned, tossing the heap of old socks and used t-shirts into the laundry basket by the kitchen door. She made her way to the kitchen table and manoeuvred past her mother, who was dishing extra bacon onto her husband's plate.

"At last, Eleanor Johnson graces us with her presence," said Mel, looking up from her muesli breakfast. "Just in time for tea and cakes - having completely missed breakfast yet again."

"Funny," said Ellie, pulling out her chair and sitting down. "Very funny. From now on I think I'll call you Melinda the Wit."

"You missed out the T," piped up Luke, who was eating scrambled eggs on toast with every sign of enjoyment. "You mean Melinda the Twit."

"Shut up, Luke!" snapped Mel. "Nobody asked _you _to talk."

"Mum, she told me to shut up!" Luke protested.

"Shut up, _both _of you, and eat your breakfast!" their mother ordered. "I don't want to hear another word from either of you!"

The siblings fell silent and returned to their breakfasts, occasionally raising their heads to glower at each other.

As Ellie unfolded the old newspaper that she'd brought down with her, she felt a sharp pain in her ankle; she'd been surreptitiously kicked under the table by Luke, who had probably been aiming for Mel but had missed his mark. Normally Ellie would have complained, or at least returned the kick, but right now she was too tired to care. She let the matter drop and, yawning widely, reached over to ruffle her little sister's hair.

"You're getting really big now, Ginny-Gin," she told the baby sleepily. "I bet you'll be taller than me soon. Because you're a big girl now, aren't you?"

Ginny giggled and blew happy bubbles at her big sister. Ellie smiled, kissed the little girl on her grubby forehead, then glanced over at her father. As always, he was immersed in the contents of the local newspaper. Known as the _Arklay Morning Herald, _it ran to about thirty pages and was delivered daily to every house in town. Very little ever happened in Arklay, so there were few articles of interest and advertisements tended to predominate in its pages. She'd skimmed through the first few issues in the week following the move, but had soon lost interest. Until now…

"So what's the scandal today, Dad?" said Ellie, angling her head to try and read the front page.

"The Raccoon City inquiry. What else?" her father replied, with a light shrug of his shoulders. "The whole town's been nuked right out of existence - a story like that's going to keep the media busy for months. I won't be surprised if Raccoon City's still on the front page this time next year."

"It's a bloody outrage," said Ellie's mother, stabbing a piece of fried tomato savagely with her fork. "Whoever heard of dropping nuclear weapons on a town just because everybody's ill? People wouldn't stand for it back home - I mean, whatever were they thinking of? We could all have been killed by the radiation! I'm surprised we're not glowing in the dark as it is!"

"They did send in a clean-up squad the next day, dearest," pointed out Ellie's father, turning the newspaper to the next page. "They said there was no risk of nuclear contamination spreading to other towns and that there wouldn't be any fallout."

"Rubbish," said Ellie's mother shortly, passing Ellie's plate across the table to her. "Of course there's going to be fallout! There always is, isn't there? You can't drop nuclear missiles on a town and not expect any fallout afterwards."

"The whole "Ban The Bomb" thing obviously went tits-up over here," said Mel, taking Ellie by surprise. It wasn't like her older sister to comment on politics, a subject in which her interest was normally made conspicuous by its absence.

"Don't use language like that in front of your brother and sisters," said her mother sharply. "I don't want the baby picking up words like those, thank you very much."

"Saying "tits-up" isn't swearing, Mum," complained Mel.

"Not another word, Melinda Johnson!" her mother warned. "Eat your breakfast."

"I'm done anyway," said Mel sullenly, throwing down her spoon into the bowl of muesli and splashing milk on the table. She got up and walked out of the room, swinging her pink shoulder-bag onto her arm.

"Where are you going?" her mother demanded to know.

"School," said Mel, rather sulkily. "Kim said she and her mum would pick me up today. I'm going outside to wait for them."

The front door had barely finished slamming behind her when Luke jumped up out of his seat and ran for the door, backpack in hand.

"School bus is here, bye!" he gabbled, and was out of the house in the blink of an eyelid.

That left Ellie's parents, baby Ginny - who was gnawing happily on the handles of her plastic beaker - and Ellie herself. The room was quiet now, aside from the faint patter of early morning drizzle on the windows.

"Do you want a lift into school this morning, Ellie?" said her father eventually. "They said we're going to have more rain again today."

"Yeah, that'd be great," said Ellie, in between mouthfuls. "Thanks, Dad."

"All right, then. Just let me finish reading the paper first, and we'll be off."

Ellie nodded, and as her father returned his attention to his newspaper, she decided to follow suit. She opened up her yellowing, two-month-old copy of the _Arklay Morning Herald_ and read:

_STARS SURVIVORS "CONFUSED", SAYS IRONS_

_Police Chief Dismisses Reports As "Unreliable"_

_Reported by Emily Coulter_

_Following the STARS unit's unsuccessful investigation into the attacks in and around the Raccoon Forest area, Chief Brian Irons of the Raccoon City Police Department has stated that reports from the five surviving STARS members are "unreliable" and "highly dubious at best"._

_In a press conference at Raccoon City Hall yesterday, Chief Irons told reporters that mechanical failure had resulted in a helicopter crash and the loss of six of the seven STARS Bravo Team members on the night of July 23rd. The STARS Alpha Team was dispatched on July 24th but sustained two further losses while attempting to rescue the sole survivor of the crash, 18-year old team medic Rebecca Chambers. It is believed that team members encountered a bear while searching for the Bravo Team helicopter and that two of the men were fatally wounded before they could escape._

_Sensationally, the Chief also revealed that the surviving STARS members are suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and have been deemed unfit to testify at next month's inquiry._

"_This diagnosis may account for the unlikely explanation that I have received from the surviving STARS members," said Irons, 51. "After a series of extensive interviews, we can only conclude that the survivors are suffering from shock and that the trauma of seeing their colleagues killed has deeply affected their judgment, to the extent that they are confused as to the exact nature of the events of July 23rd-25th. I also believe that they may have suffered from hallucinations caused by a prevalence of blue herb pollen in the region."_

_Explosions were reported by Arklay residents shortly after dawn on July 24th and July 25th, but Chief Irons was quick to reassure the Arklay Mountain communities that all was well in the area._

"_I have recently received several reports of explosions in the forest from concerned residents in Arklay and other towns nearby. After a brief investigation, we have succeeded in determining the cause of these explosions. _

"_It appears that a faulty gas main at a private residence was to blame for the explosion heard in the forest just after dawn on July 24th. While the property itself sustained severe damage, nobody was hurt in the accident. The owners have been contacted and they have issued a statement confirming that the remnants of the property were explosively demolished on the morning of July 25th for safety reasons. They will be staying elsewhere until the house can be properly rebuilt._

"_Repair work is now being carried out on the faulty gas main, and workmen will be conducting routine maintenance checks on a further twelve mains in order to ensure the continued safety of residents in the neighbouring towns. If anyone has further questions regarding this incident, I will be more than happy to personally address any concerns that they may have. In the meantime, I can assure everyone living in the mountains that they are safe and have nothing to fear."_

_The Chief later dismissed persistent rumours of attacks within the Raccoon City limits, asserting that the alleged spate of attacks on civilians by "monsters" was, in fact, little more than a series of encounters with stray dogs, and that reports of fatalities in the Fairview and Brentford districts of Raccoon City have been grossly exaggerated by locals._

_However, rumours surrounding the recent "cannibal murder" cases are continuing to circulate through the mountains, and Chief Irons issued the following statement in response:_

"_We believe that one or more individuals may be responsible for these horrific attacks, and while there is no evidence to suggest that some kind of cult may be to blame for these deaths, we are not ruling out any possibilities at this stage. Police investigations are continuing and we are confident that we will soon discover and bring to justice the person or persons responsible for these dreadful crimes."_

_The investigation continues._

_(Full report on STARS findings, p 8-9.)_

Ellie frowned. The police chief's words had been meant to reassure people, she knew that, but somehow these claims didn't look quite so convincing in retrospect. What Mrs Duvall had told her about the destruction of the Spencer mansion suddenly came to mind:

_No, my dear, it was destroyed back in July, didn't you hear? Some kind of forest fire, or a gas explosion, something like that._

Yellowing paper crackled under her fingers as she turned the newspaper's pages. When she reached pages eight and nine, she stared for some time at the headline, then let her eyes drop through the lines of densely-packed text until she found what she was looking for.

Set in neat type, the claims looked outrageous - a respected multi-national pharmaceuticals company allegedly commandeering a mansion in order to conduct experiments on living creatures and develop a killer virus that turned its victims, animal and human alike, into horrific flesh-eating monsters.

People had ridiculed the five surviving STARS members, of course. She couldn't say that she blamed them entirely. It seemed impossible. It probably was - and yet her misgivings remained.

For one thing, there was Raccoon City. What kind of disease killed a hundred thousand people and was so virulent that it needed to be wiped out by a nuclear missile? Why the persistent rumours and reports of monsters in the surrounding area just prior to the epidemic? Why the mysterious silence from the city's few survivors? And why were there representatives of that famously benevolent pharmaceuticals company, Umbrella, hanging around in the forest, so close to the site of the Spencer mansion?

_And then of course after it happened, there were all sorts of stories. A few people said they'd heard a big explosion around dawn, and helicopters passing overhead, but people will say anything these days… quite astonishing, some of the theories the press came up with later on._

Yes, people believed in all kinds of silly things. Silly things like the outrageous claims being made on pages eight and nine, perhaps? Or things like a faulty gas main being responsible for an exploding house in the forest that Umbrella now seemed oddly interested in?

_People say it was blown up on purpose, but like I said, people believe all kinds of silly things. Why on earth would somebody want to blow up an empty old mansion? _

"Why indeed?" murmured Ellie.

"Hmm?"

Ellie's head jerked up, and she realised that she'd spoken that last thought aloud. Her mother and father were staring at her; even Ginny seemed to be giving her an odd look.

"Something wrong, love?" said her mother at last.

"No, I'm fine," Ellie said quickly, folding up the newspaper. "Just thinking aloud."

"Well, whatever you're thinking about must be pretty interesting," said her mother, who promptly whipped out a handkerchief and started wiping Ginny's mouth, to the child's loud dismay. "Just don't let it distract you from your schoolwork. I know you, you're _terrible _for daydreaming."

"Speaking of which, we'd better get going," said Ellie's father, rising from the table. He brushed some crumbs from his pants, then smiled suddenly at his daughter. "Ready to go?"

"Okay," said Ellie, stuffing the newspaper into her backpack. "Bye Mum, see you later!"

"Bye," called her mother. "Have a good day, sweetheart."

Ellie doubted this somehow, but she didn't want to dampen her mother's spirits, so instead she returned the pleasantry and hurried outside after her father. She slammed the front door after her, then made a quick dash through the rain to the car parked outside.

"This one, Ellie!"

"Huh? Oh."

Ellie blinked, and realised that she was standing next to the wrong car. The people living next door had a navy sedan too, and if you didn't look for the little distinguishing marks, like the pattern of dents and scraped paintwork in the rear doors, then it was ridiculously easy to mistake the two cars.

"Looks like your mum's right," said her father, smiling, as Ellie hurried over to the right car. "You've got a lot on your mind today, poppet. Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine, really," Ellie insisted, as she climbed into the front passenger seat. "I, um… I just thought of something that I want to ask Jack and Lisa at school today."

She slammed the door, and wondered why she'd said that.

"Is that so?" said her father, who still looked amused. "Well, make sure you ask them right away before you forget what you wanted to say. Then you can return your attention to working hard and being a good girl."

"Daaaaaad," groaned Ellie, cringing as her father ruffled her hair. "Don't do that! Come on, I'm not a little kid any more. I know I'm meant to work hard and be good and everything. And I do most of the time."

"I know, but it's the rest of the time that I'm worried about. All that business with that girl, Kara, or whatever her name was - "

"Karen," interjected Ellie.

"Yes, her. Personally I can't stand her _or_ her mother, they're a pretty frightful pair, but your mum wants us to make a good impression, so try not to stir up too much trouble, okay? And turn your music down a bit, too. I don't mind punk, God knows I listened to enough of it when I was young, but full volume at eight in the morning is a bit loud."

Ellie's father paused, with the key halfway to the ignition.

"Did I just say that?" he said, blinking.

"You did," Ellie said solemnly.

"Really? Good grief. It must be true, then," said Ellie's father, and he shook his head. "If it's too loud, you're too old."

The car pulled away from the sidewalk.

"Oh, Dad, you're not old," said Ellie consolingly, patting her father on the shoulder. "Not really. The neighbours must be ancient, though. They always think it's too loud. If it was on _mute_, it'd probably be too loud. Can't we move somewhere else? Somewhere where the neighbours like punk? Like back home in London, when we had the bloke with the red and purple mohawk living next door? He and his girlfriend played their music even louder than I do and nobody minded…"

"Nice try, Ellie," said her father, and he shook his head smilingly. "Like it or not, we're staying put. I know you miss London, but we've been through all this before. Come on, this is a nice place. Mel and Luke love it here, and so does your mum. And you don't want Ginny having to grow up in London with all the crime and pollution, do you?"

"I _like_ crime and pollution," said Ellie sulkily. "They're signs of civilisation. This place is only clean and safe because it's right in the middle of nowhere. And anyway," she added, as a flash of inspiration struck her, "what about all the disease hanging around this place? And the radiation? And those monsters everyone was talking about a few months ago? We were cut off from everywhere else for _ages _when they closed the road out of the mountains. Don't you think it's dangerous to be somewhere this isolated? What if something bad happens?"

"There's no radiation _or_ disease here, Ellie," said her father, with a patience that she found utterly infuriating. "Like I told your mother earlier, they cleaned all that up after the Raccoon City disaster. As for monsters, there are no such things."

"What about those attacks, then?" said Ellie, who wasn't about to be fobbed off by excuses. "Why was Mum so worried about all those stories of people being killed in the forest?"

"You know, it said in the paper today that they think it was rabies driving all those animals in the forest to attack people," said Ellie's father, in more thoughtful tones. "Apparently there were reports of rabid animals attacking in this area way back in the Seventies. And all that cannibalism business was just a bunch of maniacs on the rampage. Last I heard, they were holed up somewhere in Raccoon City, so I don't give much for their chances. Dead now, I expect."

"Yeah," said Ellie, giving up and letting her gaze drift out through the rain-speckled glass of the window. "I expect so too."

Before long, she was so deep in thought that she didn't even notice her father turning on the radio and wincing visibly at the sound of Rock 303's preferred brand of rock music. Even when he retuned the station to Gold FM and flooded the car with the sound of bland Eighties synth-pop, his actions barely registered in Ellie's own private universe.

Now she remembered why she'd thought of her two new friends when she made up her excuse. Jack and Lisa had both arrived recently from Raccoon City. She knew very little about their reasons for leaving - they hadn't given away very much so far - but she'd assumed that their dead parents had been killed by the mysterious sickness that had gripped Raccoon City in its final days.

If this was the case, then unlike her friend Shazza, they hadn't been able to leave town before their families succumbed to illness… which meant that they were bound to know what had really happened in Raccoon City. If the latest rumours were true and there really had been zombies there, then Lisa and Jack would almost certainly know about all about it.

Either way, she was determined to find out what had really been happening up here in the mountains, and if anybody could help her uncover the truth, it was surely them…

xxxxxxxxxx

Jack and Lisa were in their third class of the morning, and things weren't going well. In fact, they were hiding under their desks.

German classes were taken by Mrs Chamberlain, a fragile-looking lady of indeterminate age who had been blessed at birth with a gentle soul and a kind, forgiving nature. Unfortunately, these gifts, wonderful though they undoubtedly were, should definitely have been exchanged after the christening for ten extra IQ points and a strong backbone - a much wiser investment for someone desiring even partial control over a classful of Arklay's high school students.

About ten minutes ago, a scuffle had broken out at the front of the class over some kind of unpaid debt. The original combatants had been Herb Grover and the Bascaulet twins, but despite Mrs Chamberlain's feeble efforts to stop the fighting, the rest of the class had joined in as well.

There had been just two exceptions. One had been Connor Goldberg, who had spotted the warning signs straight away and taken cover beneath his desk, in the manner of someone who was used to the drill.

The other exception, to Jack and Lisa's surprise, had been Ellie. They'd expected her to roll up her sleeves and dive straight into the brawl, but instead she was sitting at her desk and calmly getting on with her work as though nothing was amiss.

"Does this happen every time we have German class?" said Lisa nervously, poking her head out of her hiding place and looking up at her friend.

"Oh no, not _every_ time," said Ellie, who was copying out the grammar rules that Mrs Chamberlain had been planning to teach them this lesson.

"Well, that's good," said Lisa uncertainly.

"Yeah, sometimes the teacher's off sick with stress," continued Ellie, glancing up at the chalkboard for a moment, then resuming her task.

"Oh," said Lisa. She didn't really know what to say to this, so she looked across at Jack, who had been seated in the row behind her. He appeared to be glad of the extra wall of desks between him and the fighting at the front of the room.

"_Madre de Dios_," he was muttering, as Mrs Chamberlain's final, despairing attempt to reason with her students was met with a volley of abuse. "She ain't gonna do _nothin' _'bout this. She just gonna stand there an' talk to 'em nicely till they hit her over the head with a chair or somethin'. Why dint she send 'em all to the principal's office, or give 'em after-school detention?"

Seeing poor Mrs Chamberlain scrabbling desperately in her desk drawer for her bottle of Valium, Lisa was thinking somewhere along the same lines. She felt sorry for the woman, of course, but at the same time, she couldn't help wondering what had possessed someone with such a nervous temperament to come and teach at a madhouse like Arklay High School…

The first class of the morning had been Biology, with Mr Henderson. Mr Henderson was a good teacher, on the whole, and wasn't afraid to put his foot down and exert his authority if his students misbehaved. He'd succeeded in imparting quite a lot of information to them in the first half of the class, and so it had been rather a shame when a bored Adrian Martello had released Mr Henderson's pet stick insects from their vivarium, causing panic and screaming chaos in the part of the room where Karen and her followers had been sitting. Mr Henderson's appeals for calm and an orderly recapture had gone unheeded as the rest of his students started scrambling across the floor in a mad rush to catch the things, and by the time the class had ended, he'd looked as though he was deeply regretting his choice of profession and was thinking about taking up a more peaceful line of work instead - like becoming a Navy SEAL.

Judging by what Lisa had seen so far, it seemed that the only way to maintain total control over one of Arklay High's unruly classes was to either bore them to sleep or to terrify them into total silence. The latter was the preferred method of Ms Lancaster, the French teacher - a severe-looking woman with a harsh, nasal voice and the uncanny ability to put the fear of God into even the most rebellious student. French had followed Biology this morning, and the small mountain of exercises that they'd been given had been obediently completed, in a room so quiet that Lisa could have sworn she'd heard dust settling on the windowsill beside her. Even when Ms Lancaster set them about a month's worth of essay assignments, to be completed by the end of the week, there hadn't been a murmur of complaint.

Unnerved though she was by the French teacher's frosty demeanour, Lisa was beginning to wish that Ms Lancaster took German classes too. The silence was unpleasant, but it was preferable by far to being obliged to hide under your own desk for forty minutes of a fifty-minute class.

"Think we oughta make a run for the door?" said Jack suddenly, looking around to see if the only potential escape route was clear.

"Well, I - "

Lisa found herself interrupted by a terrified yell; she and Jack both jumped as Will Pitman came flying through the air and landed right in front of the door. He was followed closely by an angry Jake, who dived after him and immediately picked up the other boy by the collar.

"You Commie bastard, I'll get you for that!" roared Jake.

"Serves you right!" Will retorted, through swollen lips. "You - !"

This last sentence ended in another yell as Jake punched the boy squarely in the jaw.

"I think that would be a very bad idea," finished Lisa, very quietly, and Jack nodded in sincere agreement.

No sooner had they averted their eyes from this scene of unnecessary violence than they started at the sound of another crash nearby. Curiosity trumped self-preservation in this case, however, and they risked a look.

Ellie was sitting completely still, her pen frozen in mid-movement. Russell had just landed face-down on her desk, and lay sprawled across her papers in a groaning heap. For a moment Ellie appeared entirely lost for words, but as Russell grunted and tried to get up again, her initial shock disappeared and she looked down at him in disgust.

"Get off my desk, you idiot," she said shortly, tilting her desk and tipping her unwanted guest straight onto the floor in an avalanche of books, pens and papers. "Honest to God, this is getting ridiculous… we can't even get through two flaming _lessons _without a fiasco like this…"

She got to her feet and, ignoring Russell's groans of agony, stepped neatly over him, stopping only to pick up her backpack. Lisa looked cautiously out from under her desk as Ellie made her way to the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked, peering up at the other girl.

"I'm off to find a _real _teacher," came the reply. "I may be some time..."

Ellie's progress was briefly impeded by Jake, who rose to his feet and started making some sort of threat as to what might happen if someone ran off to tell tales, but he managed to say no more than four words before being toppled by a swift and unforgiving elbow to the ribcage.

"Oh, piss off," said Ellie impatiently, and shut the door behind her.

As Jake knelt on the classroom floor, coughing out an occasional wheezy profanity as he struggled to catch his breath, Lisa inched carefully away from him. Perhaps sharing her sense of imminent peril, Jack crawled out from under his own desk and hurriedly scrambled forward, on his hands and knees, until both he and Lisa were squatting uncomfortably under the desk beside Connor's.

"Oh, hey guys," said Connor cheerfully, looking up. Like Ellie, he didn't seem at all troubled by the mayhem that surrounded him on all sides. "You okay? Nobody hit you yet, did they?"

"No, thank goodness, but that's probably more down to luck than anything else," said Lisa, looking around. "Why isn't anyone doing something about this?"

"Oh, this happens all the time," said Connor, shrugging. "Someone'll come along eventually and yell until everyone stops fighting. Give it… oh, about ten minutes. Five if Ellie claims she has whiplash again. Her dad's a junior partner at Boswell, Clarke & Raines, the big law firm just opposite the library, and for some reason all the teachers are terrified of him. Don't know why."

Lisa and Jack paused for a moment while they digested this.

"Think it might be 'cause he be a _lawyer_?" ventured Jack. "They got kind of a reputation for, y'know, takin' people to court."

"Yeah, that might explain it," said Connor vaguely. "Do you think that's why she keeps threatening to sue every time something like this happens?"

Despite themselves, Lisa and Jack rolled their eyes. It seemed that Radio Connor was permanently tuned to the easy listening station, and that news bulletins had been taken off the schedule quite some time ago. The most you could probably hope for was an occasional phone-in to remind him that there was a world outside his head.

"Could be," said Jack eventually, deciding to take the kinder option; in spite of Connor's worrying lack of perspicacity, using sarcasm on the boy was like kicking a puppy.

"Don't worry, there's nothing to be scared of," Connor added, misinterpreting Jack's expression. "Nobody really gets hurt. Well, not much. I feel sorry for Mrs Chamberlain, though. She's a nice lady, once you get to know her. Between you and me," he confided, "I don't think she likes it here very much."

Jack and Lisa looked across the room at Mrs Chamberlain, who had long since given up the hope of restoring order and was now sitting under her own desk, shakily counting out Valium pills into her palm.

"You don't say?" said Lisa faintly.

It was around now that Ellie reappeared with Ms Lancaster in tow, complaining bitterly that her classmates were wrecking the place and that Mrs Chamberlain was being "bloody useless".

The next five minutes were full of volume and incident. Once the yelling had subsided and Mrs Chamberlain had been led away by a pair of sympathetic colleagues, the class were ordered to tidy up the mess they'd made, go immediately to their next class - via the nurse's office, if necessary - and then to return to Mrs Chamberlain's room during their lunch hour to apologise.

"Except for Connor, Jack, Eleanor and Lisa," Ms Lancaster had barked. "I see you four had the good sense not to follow the example of this sorry bunch of lowlifes. You can go ahead and explain to Mr Rosen why the _rest _of his class will be arriving late."

Which had earned Jack and Lisa the most hostile set of glares they'd ever seen. They'd hurried out of the room as quickly as they could, in the hope of leaving those angry stares safely on the other side of the classroom door. Even so, they'd heard a couple of hissed comments that had sounded like the words "traitors" and "teacher's pets".

They were now on their way to the penultimate class of the morning - Art, with Mr Rosen. Art was one of Lisa's favourite subjects, but she wasn't really looking forward to meeting this particular teacher again.

Mr Rosen was tall and wiry-looking, with dishevelled black hair, wild eyes, a pantomime villain's moustache, and a grin that looked positively demented. After their first Art class, Jack had expressed the opinion that the man was "completely _loco_" and that he looked like an axe murderer, but Lisa thought that the man looked more like a vampire. His eccentric appearance and the long, dusty-looking black overcoat that he always wore, even indoors, had given her this unsettling first impression, and the more she noticed about the man, the further the impression deepened. The dramatic gestures, the darting movements and the intent, almost hungry look on his face all appeared to have been lifted straight out of an old black-and-white horror movie - all that seemed to be missing from the picture was a prominent pair of fangs.

Lisa explained her theory now, to break the awkward silence as they trod through the corridors, and Ellie burst out laughing.

"He _does_, doesn't he?" she said. "We should start calling him Count von Rosen. Yeah, Count von Rosen… scourge of the Arklay Mountains."

"Terror of the tenth grade," Lisa suggested.

"Oh, he's a terror all right," agreed Ellie. "Gave me a C minus for my project last term. Said it wasn't "dynamic" enough. Dynamic, my left toenails. The man's a bloody lunatic, I'm telling you…"

When they entered the room, Mr Rosen was sitting on the edge of his desk, with his arms folded casually across his chest.

"Uh, Mr Rosen?" Lisa said hesitantly, from just inside the doorway. "I know we're a little early for class, but Ms Lancaster sent us ahead to warn you that everyone else might be kind of late. There was a big fight in our last class and - "

Mr Rosen unfolded an arm and waved her somewhat irritably into silence, then gestured for them to sit down. They did so immediately. Their teacher's arms folded again into their original position, and an uncomfortable stillness fell across the room.

Some minutes later, the rest of the class appeared. Some of them still looked mutinous, particularly Will, Jake, Herb and the twins, but the other students seemed wary, as though they feared another outburst to come from this teacher - after all, the snitches who preceded them were bound to have told him what they'd just done, weren't they?

As the apprehensive tenth-graders filed through the door, the teacher's beady dark eyes swivelled from side to side, watching as each student took their place at the long wooden tables that surrounded his desk. When they were all seated, he acknowledged their presence with a short nod.

"Welcome, class," he announced. "Today I have a challenge for you. However, I should warn you all before we begin that we will be departing from familiar territory and venturing into the unknown."

He leapt suddenly to his feet and began pacing the room, handing out pieces of blank paper. His black overcoat was trailing behind him again, and for a moment Lisa was tempted to go over to the window and open the Venetian blinds wide, just to see if he'd scream at the touch of daylight and dissolve into ashes.

Jack seemed to be having similar thoughts.

"Hey Lise, maybe you should open the window an' see if he really be a vampire," he whispered, when Mr Rosen had passed them.

"I can't do that!" Lisa hissed.

"How come?" whispered Jack.

"Because trying to turn your teacher into a little pile of dust doesn't look good on your permanent record," she whispered back. "I don't want a little pile of dust to fail me for Art class. That's just embarrassing."

"This is a time for _reflection_, Miss Hartley," said Mr Rosen suddenly, pausing in his task. "Reflection demands silence."

There were one or two muffled giggles from Karen's end of the table.

"_Freak_," she heard one of the girls whisper to the other.

Lisa's eyes narrowed.

"Maybe after we get our report cards," she muttered, as Mr Rosen moved further down the table.

It was a joke, of course. She knew that the idea of her Art teacher _really_ being a vampire was nonsensical and that vampires didn't exist. On the other hand, she'd fervently believed once that zombies weren't real, either. As far as she was aware, Umbrella hadn't been working on a vampire virus, but she felt glad that Amber and the others were working to shut the company down before they could do any more damage. It wasn't beyond the bounds of possibility that some mad scientist currently in Umbrella's employ believed that creating a vampire would be a wonderful thing indeed, and was toiling over this obsession in some underground laboratory even now in the hope of making other people's nightmares come true.

"This exercise will be difficult for all of you, but for some more than others," Mr Rosen continued, returning to the centre of the room and standing in front of his desk. "It will force many of you to confront your views on the nature of art and life itself, and perhaps even bring you to face humanity's deepest fear - the fear of that which we do not know or understand."

Lisa decided that this sounded interesting. She inched forwards in her seat, and noticed that several other members of the class were doing the same thing.

"I want you all to follow your feelings during this assignment," Mr Rosen told them. "Dismiss convention. Act solely on your instincts. Draw only what you feel to be true."

"Oh, stop bloody posturing and tell us what it is," Ellie said under her breath.

"I want you," Mr Rosen said, pausing slightly for effect, "to draw what it feels like to breathe."

This caused a huge outcry and lots of frantic murmuring amongst the less artistically-inclined students.

"What the hell?" burst out Jake.

"How are you supposed to do _that_?" said Karen haughtily.

"With extreme difficulty, Miss Hall," said Mr Rosen, with the sudden manic grin of a bus driver who, after years of slow and careful driving, had suddenly decided to put his foot down and head for the the nearest cliff. "You have half an hour and spare paper if you need it. Please begin."

xxxxxxxxxx

"I can't believe it," Leticia complained, from somewhere ahead of Jack and Lisa. "He threw my paper in the trash and told me to start over! How the hell are you meant to draw something like _breathing_, anyway?"

"Oh, he's crazy," Karen said dismissively, to murmurs of agreement from Beverley, Hazel and Leticia. "Doesn't know what he's talking about. And they put a guy like that in charge of the entire Art department? I'm telling you, he's nuts."

"Remember when he made us do sculptures last semester?" piped up Andrea eagerly, from the trio of wannabe Karens following behind them. "What was _that_ all about?"

Karen turned round and gave Andrea a withering look that silenced the girl completely, then proceeded to ignore her and the other two girls for the rest of the journey between classes.

Ellie apparently hadn't thought much of the assignment either.

"Breathing is a _process_," they could hear her complaining to Connor, somewhere ahead of them. "How can you draw a process? I suppose you could draw diagrams and stuff to show what happens to your lungs when you breathe, but…"

"You were supposed to draw what it _feels_ like to breathe, though," said Connor mildly. "That's completely different from what breathing _is_."

"He got a point there," said Jack, overhearing this. "You ain't tryin' to explain breathing, right? If you want to show people what happen when you breathe, you make a model, or write a book about it."

"Whereas showing people what breathing _feels _like is completely different," Lisa agreed. "After all, art's about expressing yourself through different mediums. You're trying to explain a sensation visually, by drawing it. What did you draw?"

"Bunch of wavy lines an' stuff," said Jack. "Thought maybe it could, you know, represent air flow through the body. He kinda liked it. How 'bout you, Lise?"

"I drew… well, I wasn't sure what to do for a while. In the end I drew lots and lots of little balloons being blown up and deflated again, inside two really big balloons. He said it was an interesting concept, but that's _all _he said," said Lisa, sighing. She felt as though someone had deflated her too, letting all the confidence that had initially buoyed her up rush right out again like so much hot air. "I guess it wasn't really what he was looking for. Maybe he wanted something more abstract."

"Dunt matter," Jack told her. "You try your best. Art be a real personal thing an' everybody like somethin' diff'rent. Ain't much you can do 'bout a diff'rence in opinion. Sounds like a pretty cool idea to me though."

This raised a smile on Lisa's face.

"Really?"

"Sure. Dunt you worry what other people gonna think 'bout you work. 's the whole point, it ain't _they _work. 's yours an' you can do whatever you feel like, so you just go ahead an' do it the way you want. If they dunt like it, too bad for them."

Lisa suddenly felt much happier. No matter what the circumstances, Jack always seemed to find the words to make her feel better about herself. She was just starting to feel a little more at ease when someone grabbed her by the shoulder. It turned out to be Ellie; she looked breathless and excited, as though she had a piece of news that she was dying to impart.

"Hey, Lisa? Jack? Can I ask you something?" she said, in the hushed tones of someone imparting a big secret.

"Yeah, sure," said Jack nonchalantly. "Go ahead."

"Well, I know this is probably a personal question, so I hope you don't mind me asking," Ellie began, "But I've been reading up on all the stuff that's been happening around here in the past few months, and I was wondering… when exactly did you two leave Raccoon City?"

Lisa felt her heart freeze solid. It was the question she'd hoped that nobody would bother asking, and she realised, with mounting horror, that she had no idea how to answer it. She glanced nervously at Jack, hoping that he'd been more prepared for questions like these, but he too looked lost for words.

Thinking desperately of a plausible-sounding explanation, she was just about to start talking when Jack suddenly began counting on his fingers, silently moving his lips as he did so.

"I say 'bout… yeah, 'bout six weeks ago," he said finally. "That sound right to you, Lise?"

"Yes, that's about right," Lisa agreed straight away, deciding to take Jack's lead. "We left at the start of September."

"So you two got out before the outbreak really kicked off?" said Ellie.

Lisa and Jack both nodded hastily.

"Oh, I see," said Ellie. She looked unaccountably disappointed. "So you didn't see any zombies, then."

"No, of course not," Lisa lied, and immediately hated herself for it. This was exactly what Umbrella wanted people to believe, and here they were, doing the corporation's dirty work for them - all for the sake of a quiet life. "All that stuff about zombies was probably just a bunch of wild rumours."

Ellie raised her eyebrows.

"Probably? So there might have been zombies there?"

Lisa silently cursed her new friend's perceptiveness. The girl was a born journalist; they always seemed to pick up straight away on the tiniest flaws in an argument, and refused to let go until they got an explanation.

"Might have been," she admitted lamely. "It's hard to say for sure. _We _didn't see anything strange, though."

"Yeah, dunt really know much 'bout what happen after we leave," Jack added quickly. "We hear some stuff on the news, but nobody really seem to know much 'bout that weird virus or where it come from."

"Sounds like you missed out on all the action, then," said Ellie, as they returned to the tenth-grade classroom. "I was just wondering, because I knew you were from Raccoon City and I thought you might be able to tell me something about what happened - especially after you said your parents had died."

"Oh, they dint die 'cause of the virus," Jack said hurriedly, taking his seat. "Lise's parents die in an accident. The buildin' they be workin' in blew up an' everyone workin' there got killed in the explosion. An' my mama die ten years ago. Right, Lise?"

Lisa nodded, feeling slightly less guilty this time. After all, the explanation was based partly in truth - the laboratory complex _had_ blown up, hadn't it?

"You said you lived with your aunt, right, Jack?" said Ellie, sitting down at her desk and getting out her notebook and pencil case. "What happened to her?"

Jack suddenly looked deeply uncomfortable. He was clearly wrestling with his conscience, not wanting to tell a lie about his beloved Aunt Rosa.

"Murdered," he said finally. "She used to work in, uh, customer service. Had to go right across town sometimes to find work, to the real bad parts of the city. Only way she could afford to feed us both, you know? Then one day one of her customers start gettin' violent an' - an' they hurt her real bad. I manage to call 911 and they get her to the hospital, but... she dint make it."

Ellie grimaced.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"'s okay," Jack murmured.

"So you two went to stay with friends when you left the city, then?" Ellie continued, turning back to Lisa.

"Yes, that's right," said Lisa, realising that it would be best to carry on the explanation herself from this point. Jack looked as though he was going to cry, and she didn't want him to get even more upset - or risk letting him break down and unravel the careful web of lies that they were spinning. "We stayed in Tumbleweed for a while, then one of our friends said we could stay in her apartment here until she and the others got back from Europe."

"Well, sounds like you got out just in time," said Ellie. "By the way, did you ever hear about what happened on the STARS mission in Raccoon Forest?"

Lisa nodded.

"Yes, I did," she said, adding, "Nobody really believed them."

"Only I have this theory about what's been happening up here," said Ellie, taking out her pen and opening her notebook. "I've been going through all the old newspapers in our basement and I'm telling you, something _weird_ is going on."

Out of the corner of her eye, Lisa saw Jack sit up sharply in his seat, and she felt fear building up inside her again. She had a nasty feeling that Ellie might be on to something. Why was she suddenly asking all these questions about Raccoon City? Had she seen through their excuses that easily? What did she know?

"What do you mean, weird?" she said guardedly.

"Well," said Ellie, scribbling notes, "I've been reading up on all the stuff about the STARS investigation. Nobody believed all the stories they were telling about mansion labs and monsters in the woods, right?"

"Right," said Lisa slowly, watching Ellie's pencil. Grey lines and circles flowed easily from the little point of graphite, and the words almost seemed to scribble themselves, as if the blurry movements of the pencil were drawing them straight out of the paper.

"I've also been talking to the lady who runs the library in town," Ellie continued, drawing a circle around one of the words. "She's taught me an awful lot about the town's history, and all the people who used to live around here. And let me tell you, some of the connections that I've found are just a little too interesting to be coincidences."

She finished whatever it was that she was doing, then tore the page out and presented it to Lisa.

Lisa took it carefully, and started to examine it. A rustle of clothing beside her indicated that Jack was now leaning over from his desk to get a better look.

The page was covered in an untidy spider diagram. At the centre of the "spider", with a big circle drawn around them, were the words "STARS investigation". Several smudged pencil lines extended out from this central point, leading to a host of other words, each contained within their own little circle:

The attacks

Raccoon Forest

Spencer Mansion

Umbrella Inc.

"mansion incident"

T-Virus?

zombies?

Raccoon City

Each of these circles had been connected up to the others by an intricate network of pencil lines. Some of these circles hosted secondary branches, leading to smaller circles marked "outbreak", "explosion", "cannibalism", and "monsters".

"See, the STARS went to investigate the attacks in Raccoon Forest, right? They claimed they'd found a mansion where Umbrella Inc had been making some kind of virus that turned living things into zombies," said Ellie, tracing her way along the lines with her pencil. "Nobody believed them, but then there were _more _reports of cannibalism and they started happening in Raccoon City, then people started contracting a mysterious virus and, allegedly, they started turning into zombies. And everybody knows that Umbrella had a huge branch headquarters smack bang in the middle of Raccoon City, don't they?"

Lisa watched in horrified fascination as Ellie's pencil darted to another circle.

"All right, people ignored the STARS because they thought they were nuts," continued Ellie excitedly, "But how about this - people up here heard explosions coming from the forest, right around the same time that the STARS claimed to have escaped the self-destructing mansion laboratory. The librarian told me that this guy called Spencer used to own a big mansion in the forest, and apparently it blew up in July… nobody really knows why. And do you know who one of the founders of Umbrella is? Why, none other than our old friend Mr Spencer…"

Ellie looked up triumphantly.

"How's that for a conspiracy theory?" she said.

Jack sat down again heavily, too stunned to comment. Lisa just stared at Ellie's diagram. She couldn't believe it. One teenage girl had succeeded in putting all the pieces together by doing some rudimentary research, and yet thousands of people had refused to do the same, choosing instead to put their trust in a company that had ultimately condemned them all to death…

Even she and Jack hadn't understood the full truth of what had been going on in her town until it had been too late, and they'd been _there_. Admittedly, Ellie had the obvious benefit of hindsight, but it frightened her that one bright fifteen-year old girl had realised the truth of what had happened and neatly explained the whole scenario on a single piece of paper, when a hundred thousand men, women and children hadn't suspected a thing.

_Does that make her incredibly smart and an entire town very, very stupid? Or was Raccoon City just too loyal and trusting for its own good? Either way, I don't even want to think about what could happen to Ellie if Umbrella ever finds out that she knows about their bioweapons programme. They're evil and they'll kill anyone who stands in their way. If we let her know that she's right and she starts telling everyone, then she could be in terrible danger…_

"Well?" said Ellie, her smile fading. "What do you think?"

It was deeply distressing, knowing that she couldn't simply tell Ellie the truth about what had happened. Quite apart from anything else, it seemed like an insult to the girl's intelligence to tell her that she was wrong, not least because her hypothesis was spot-on. However, what was more important - the truth or Ellie's safety? For now, until they knew they could trust Ellie to keep quiet about the whole affair and not attract any unwanted attention from Umbrella, the precious truth would have to stay hidden for a little longer.

Jack evidently thought so too.

"Bit unlikely, ain't it?" he said critically. "I mean… there ain't any actual proof. How do you know the mansion dint blow up 'cause there be… I dunno, a gas leak or somethin'?"

Ellie bristled at this, and Lisa wondered if perhaps a gas leak had been an "official" explanation put about to explain the more inconvenient parts of the STARS investigation. It wouldn't have surprised her at all if this was true.

"Doubt it somehow," said Ellie. "That's just a bit too convenient for my liking. And of _course _there isn't any proof. Most of it's been blown up, one way or another."

"Well, I dunt think a big company like Umbrella would make things like that an' then let 'em out so they could go round eatin' hikers an' attractin' unwanted publicity," said Jack, shrugging. "Even if they try, the government would find out 'bout it an' shut 'em down, right? Nobody could get away with somethin' like that, even if they could make a zombie virus."

"Oh, come off it, Jack," said Ellie, rolling her eyes. "Don't tell me you actually believe that load of rubbish."

"I ain't callin' you a liar or nothin', Ellie," Jack said reasonably. "I just dunt think you got all the facts straight yet, 's all."

"Well, you're a bloody idiot then," said Ellie, snatching back the piece of paper from Lisa's desk and scrunching it into a ball. "Because I'm telling you, there's _something_ going on around here, and that's a fact. If you don't believe me, then maybe you should take a trip up to Umbrella's new spa resort sometime, and work out why they're so interested in keeping people out."

Lisa and Jack's mouths dropped open.

"_What?_" they both exclaimed.

"Jack, Lisa. Do you mind not shouting out while I'm talking, please," came Mrs Blumenthal's voice from the front of the classroom.

There were one or two giggles as Jack and Lisa mumbled apologies for their outbursts. When the normal sound level of the room restored itself, with the usual quiet background chatter between students and the teacher's voice just about predominating right at the front, Jack whispered:

"Spa resort? The hell you talkin' 'bout, Ellie?"

"Umbrella's building a company retreat out in the woods," Ellie confided in them. "A hotel and spa complex - or at least, that's what they're _claiming _it is," she added darkly. "I went for a walk out in the forest last week and got a bit lost along the way. Fortunately for me, I bumped into a not-very-friendly representative from Umbrella's architectural division. He told me that I was trespassing on private property and kindly escorted me back into town, saying I couldn't go back into the forest again because it's not safe."

Jack and Lisa exchanged worried glances.

"For real?" said Jack at last.

"Absolutely so," confirmed Ellie. "And the most interesting part was the fact that I was probably only a few yards away from the old Spencer mansion site at the time. Personally, I'd say that they've got something to hide. As for you two, I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions. Whether you want to believe it's a holiday camp or a secret missile death base staffed entirely by four-headed mutants, well, that's entirely up to you. I, however, am going to carry on being profoundly suspicious of _everything_ that company says and does, until someone or something proves me right."

She turned to a clean page in her notebook and started taking down notes. Lisa bit her lip, then tore out a scrap of paper and scribbled a quick note to Jack.

_I can't believe this is happening. Don't they ever give up? What are they up to this time?_

She passed the note to Jack, who immediately picked up his pen and scribbled a reply. This was passed back to Lisa; she unfolded the piece of paper, re-reading her own words before letting her eyes travel down a fraction of an inch to Jack's rather less elegant handwriting:

_No idea. You think we should tell Amber?_

Lisa waited until she was sure that Mrs Blumenthal's attention was diverted to Adrian, who hadn't handed in his homework but was loudly protesting otherwise, then she moved her head almost imperceptibly in response.

xxxxxxxxxx

"I don't know what's with that new girl," said Leticia, leaning against the corridor wall. On the other side of the window, it was starting to rain again. "Seriously, what _is _it with her and talking in class?"

"Her _and _that weird boyfriend of hers," chimed in Beverley, as Karen looked idly out of the window. "He's just as bad. They both keep shouting out all the time, and it's always really random stuff that doesn't matter."

"Like in English just now, Mrs Blumenthal's talking about whatever stupid novel we're meant to be reading, and suddenly they both just yell out "What?" like idiots," said Hazel, filing her nails absent-mindedly. "I mean, what the hell is wrong with them? Are they looking for attention or something?"

"And even when she isn't gossiping with Eleanor and her stupid boyfriend, she's always putting her hand up before everyone else gets a chance to answer," said Leticia disdainfully. "Attention-seeking, nerdy little weirdo. It's like she _wants _to be the most unpopular girl in school or something."

"Yeah, making all that show of knowing all the answers… if there's one thing I've always hated, it's snotty little teacher's pets like her who think they know better than everybody else," said Karen suddenly, and the others nodded in instant agreement.

"Right," Hazel agreed. "She's doing herself no favours. None whatsoever. Especially with that ugly shirt she was wearing. Did you _see_ that? Eww!"

"Totally disgusting," said Leticia shrilly. "I mean, _blue_? Who wears blue any more? It's been out of fashion for _months_. She shouldn't even be wearing it with her complexion."

"Nerdy, attention-seeking _and_ behind the times," observed Beverley. "How much worse can you get?"

"I like blue," said a quiet voice.

The four girls turned their immaculately groomed blonde heads in the direction of the fifth voice, and saw the small, shy figure of Lisa Hartley standing next to them.

"Oh, you do?" said Karen, arching her eyebrows. "Hmm. Too bad it doesn't suit you."

Lisa lowered her eyes, as if regretting the decision to speak up, but she managed a shrug with what little bravado she had left.

"You really can't pick out an outfit to save your life, can you, Lisa?" said Leticia, with a deprecating little laugh. "I haven't seen you wear anything that suits you since the day you arrived. Jeans and t-shirts, jeans and t-shirts… always the same. Don't you have anything else to wear?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Lisa, there are _other _clothes you can wear," said Hazel, smirking. "Maybe you should try it sometime."

"There's nothing wrong with what I'm wearing," said Lisa, looking up. There was a touch of indignation in the girl's voice now, and a pale pink blush was rising in her cheeks. "So what if blue's not in fashion? I'm not going to go home and change just because you don't like my outfit. I'm perfectly happy with what I have on."

"Figures," said Leticia, rolling her eyes.

Lisa frowned.

"Well at least I've got more sense than to wear a tiny cotton dress at this time of year," she said, and now there was no mistaking the tone of quiet annoyance in her voice. "In case _you_ haven't noticed, it gets cold up here in October. Thanks for the fashion advice, but I'm not ready to freeze to death just yet."

She hurried away. Karen and the others watched her go with more than a little amusement.

"She's so easily wound-up, isn't she?" observed Hazel. "Like a little clockwork toy."

"It's hilarious," said Leticia, with a small, sly grin. "All you have to do is say something that you know will upset her and watch her taking everything to heart. And the whole time, you can see her trying _so _hard to think of something clever to say back."

While her deputies chattered around her about the way Lisa had reacted to their barbed comments, Karen smiled, just a little.

"I think we're going to have some fun with Lisa Hartley," she said to herself.

xxxxxxxxxx

It was lunchtime, and Lisa was in the main corridor, standing by the entrance and looking out through the open front doors.

Pushing one of the doors open a little further, she leaned out through the gap, and breathed in. The wash of cool, damp air from outside came as a blessed relief from the musty locker-room smell of the main corridor.

"Has it stopped yet?" she could hear Ellie calling, somewhere behind her.

Lisa took in another breath of fresh air, then looked around. The yard was dotted with puddles of varying size and shape, and it was stained dark with water. Moisture still lingered in the air, along with the fresh smell that you got after rain, but the clouds above were parting slightly, revealing a faint glow of sunlight.

"Yes, the rain's stopped," she reported, turning round. "I'm not sure how long it'll last, but it looks like it's brightening up a little."

"Good enough for me," said Ellie cheerfully. "Come on, let's go!"

One by one, they edged through the half-open door and emerged, blinking, into the daylight. Ellie went down the damp concrete steps first, humming happily to herself. Behind her, Jack followed uncertainly, still looking less than entirely convinced about the wisdom of this venture.

"Are you _sure _we're allowed to do this?" Lisa found herself saying again, for at least the third time since Ellie had first proposed the idea of going out for lunch. She could already feel the creeping sense of unease that she got whenever she knew that she was breaking rules.

"Oh, no," said Ellie, stopping just short of the gates. "But nobody really cares if you do. Half the school does a runner the minute the teachers turn their back, and short of actually nailing everybody's feet to the floor, there's not a lot they can do about it. Not that it's really an issue, because no-one wants to go out at lunchtime when it's raining, and it rains here more often than not. Come on, Lisa, are you going to stand there all day?"

"What if we get in trouble?" said Lisa nervously. "If the rules say - "

"Oh, stuff the rules," said Ellie irritably. "They only introduced that one to be awkward. I know our parents didn't give us all lunch money so we could die a slow death from food poisoning in the cafeteria. Now are you coming or not?"

Lisa's conscience and reason wrestled briefly for supremacy, but in the end it was resignation that won through.

"Okay, fine," she said, giving in. "Just don't blame me if we get in trouble for this."

"That's more like it," said Ellie, slapping her on the back. "Come on then. There's a nice little café not too far from here."

She led them through the wet grey streets of Arklay, pointing out little local landmarks and things of moderate interest along the way, and soon they found themselves standing on the corner of a side-street, outside a green-painted storefront. The name "Gold Street Café" was displayed in faded gold letters across its windows, and unlike most places in Arklay, it didn't seem to be suffering from lack of custom; from what they could see, the place was pretty busy.

"I think I'll have a toasted sandwich - and maybe some raspberry cheesecake too, they do really good cheesecake here," said Ellie happily, pushing the door open. The bell tinkled merrily to announce her arrival as she walked in. Lisa and Jack followed her tentatively inside, unsure of what to expect.

The café was a surprisingly large, high-ceilinged room with a bare wooden floor and a delicate pattern of green vines stencilled on the walls. Light flooded into the room through the big picture windows - two on the storefront, three more along one wall - and was reflected back into the room again by the huge mirrors behind the long glass-fronted counter.

There were a dozen tables in the room, nearly all of them already occupied by old ladies or groups of gossiping mothers with toddlers on their knees. Sharp-eyed Ellie, however, had already spotted a vacant table, and was making her way towards it with an expression that dared anyone to get there before she did. She sat down triumphantly, and dropped her backpack onto the floor with a thud that made the crockery on the next two tables rattle.

Meanwhile, Lisa and Jack were still apologising their way through the miniscule gaps between tables, dislodging chairs on their way past and accidentally knocking over an empty baby buggy laden with shopping, earning them both a furious glare from the woman who owned it.

"I'm sorry," Lisa gasped, as Jack dragged her away from the glaring woman and the audience of disapproving old ladies, and ushered her into the seat next to Ellie before she could bump into anyone else. Aware that one more minor calamity would bring the old ladies' thundering condemnation in their direction and probably get them thrown out of the place, he sat down quickly before anything else could happen.

"Ah, you made it," said Ellie, grinning. "So have you decided what you're going to have yet?"

Jack and Lisa shook their heads.

"No? Well, you'd best hurry up, we've only got half an hour before we have to go back. Menu's on the wall by the counter."

This trip was beginning to look less and less worth the effort, but the alternative was going back to school hungry, so they rose from their seats and picked their way back through the tables to the counter. A waitress approached them from the other direction, carrying a tray of coffee cups; they stood aside to avoid her, then approached the counter.

"Can we help you?" said one of the two women serving behind the counter. Like the waitresses, they both wore short-sleeved green dresses and white aprons, but their bearing was entirely different; they held their heads higher, and their movements were slow and graceful, whereas the waitresses scuttled around like busy mice. Lisa guessed that they were the café's proprietors - whose names were, according to a sign on the wall, Samantha and Ella Bryant.

"I'll have a coffee and one of those, please," she said, pointing to one of the sticky-looking confections on the cake stand.

"Coming right up," said the woman brightly. "What about your friend?"

"I dunt know yet," said Jack, who was still studying the menu. "Mind if I have a while longer to pick?"

"Sure, you take your time," the first woman assured him, as the other plucked a cup and saucer from the shelf behind her and set about making Lisa's coffee. "Just let us know when you're ready."

Jack nodded, then went back to deliberating over lunch. Lisa, meanwhile, watched the two women work. Samantha and Ella Bryant looked to be in their thirties, and now that they'd both moved away from her, it was difficult to tell them apart. Both were well-built women of roughly the same height, with the same dark red hair and bright eyes, and if there were any differences between them, they weren't ones that she'd had chance to notice. _Sisters_, she decided, _probably twins. Cousins, maybe, at a stretch._

One of the waitresses had recognised Ellie; she'd put down her tray and stopped beside the table to chat. Lisa didn't catch their first few pleasantries over the rattle of crockery, but then she heard:

"So who are your friends, Ellie?"

"Jack and Lisa? Oh, they're in my class at school. Just arrived."

There was a ripple in the sea of heads as people began turning curiously to look at them. Without thinking about it, Lisa cringed; this was exactly the kind of situation that she and Jack had been hoping to avoid. She wanted to leave, to take Jack by the hand and hurry away from all this unwanted attention, but the growling of her empty stomach was growing more insistent than ever; she'd just have to ride it out.

"Oh, you're new in town?" said the first woman pleasantly. "What brings you to Arklay?"

_Here we go,_ thought Lisa, feeling her sinking heart plummet a few more inches. She forced herself to answer:

"Oh, we're not staying long. Just taking care of a friend's apartment for a few weeks. She's in Europe on business."

"That's nice," said the woman, stirring milk into Lisa's coffee. "Ella and I always wanted to go to Europe. Never had chance, though, not after our aunt died and left us the café."

The woman now known to them as Samantha finished stirring the coffee and pushed it in Lisa's direction. Lisa asked for the price, then got out her wallet and counted out some change and a few dollar bills. Money changed hands, but before Lisa could make a retreat with her coffee, Samantha added:

"Don't worry, I'll get one of the girls to bring it over to you."

"Thanks," said Lisa, and went again to sit down, but again she was interrupted.

"Where did you say you were from, exactly?"

The question came from Ella this time, sudden and deadly; it wasn't quiet enough for Lisa to pretend not to have heard. Lisa turned round, trying harder than ever to contain her anxiety.

"Tumbleweed," she answered, hoping her nervousness wouldn't show in her voice.

"No, you're not," said Ella.

This outright contradiction came as a shock to Lisa; she hadn't expected to be blown so quickly off course.

"I'm sorry?" she said, hoping polite incomprehension could buy her some time to figure things out.

"I know everyone in Tumbleweed," said Ella calmly, picking up a glass and cleaning it. "Grew up there, as a matter of fact. If you'd ever lived in Tumbleweed, my sister and I would have recognised you by now."

"Well we didn't _live _in Tumbleweed," Lisa said quickly, trying to fight her embarrassment at having been caught out so easily in a lie. "I meant we've just come from there. Went to visit for a few days so we could catch up with some old friends of ours."

"Oh, I see," said Ella, smiling, but it wasn't an understanding smile, nor was it a kind one. If anything, the look that reached her sceptical eyes was a kind of amusement; she clearly knew it was a lie, but she was playing along anyway. "So, where _are _you from?"

Lisa laughed a little, hoping that a show of nonchalance would conceal her growing discomfort.

"Does it really matter where I'm from?" she said.

"Depends where you're from," commented Samantha, who was making an ice-cream soda. Lisa couldn't help noticing that the sincerity in the woman's smile wasn't quite what it had initially been - it looked as though their warm welcome was cooling fast.

"Rose Bay City," said Lisa, deciding on the spot that this would be a good place to come from. It was large enough for a certain amount of anonymity, near enough to be credible, and she knew just enough about the place to be able to answer questions.

Ella just smirked.

"I don't think so," she said, "You sound like you're from Raccoon City. Uptown Raccoon City."

"I'm not," said Lisa desperately.

"Your accent says you are," countered Ella.

Lisa could feel her face growing hot as the women's stares grew more and more intense, and she looked across at Jack, silently begging him to back her up.

_Get me out of this, Jack… please, help me…_

"I heard a rumour the other day about a couple of kids from Raccoon City showing up here in town," said Samantha at last, as she scooped out a ball of vanilla ice-cream from a frost-covered tub. "Naomi from the flower shop says she heard they ran away from home and left their families to die. They only got out of the city because they threatened to infect the guards around the barricades with the virus unless they let them escape."

"That's not true!" Lisa burst out. "We never - "

Too late, she realised her mistake. She looked around, hoping that nobody else had noticed, only to see every last person in the café, customers and waitresses alike, staring at her with undisguised horror. A teaspoon dropped from the fingers of a particularly elderly lady and landed in the teacup with a tinkle; it was the only sound in the entire room.

Fear already draining the blush from her cheeks, Lisa turned back to the women to find that they, too, were staring at her as though she'd announced a sudden intention to kill them all in their sleep.

Jack seemed to have noticed her discomfort at last. He cleared his throat, as if hoping the noise would cut through the tension, and said carefully:

"Uh… I figured out what I want now… can you get me an orange soda an' a BLT, like you got up there on the menu?"

Ella and Samantha Bryant's hostile stares were diverted from the small, mortified figure of Lisa, but Jack instantly wished he hadn't said anything as they turned their attention to him. For several long, terrible seconds, they stared at him. Then, finally, Ella narrowed her eyes.

"No," she said.

"What?" said Jack, stunned. "What you mean, _no_?"

"I mean no," said Ella coldly. "You can't."

"Huh? H-how come?"

"I'm sorry, but you're going to have to leave now," interjected Samantha.

Jack stared at the two women in total incomprehension. Puzzled and slightly angry, he searched hard for the right words to counter this statement, but the only response he could manage was:

"Why?"

"We don't have to give you an answer," retorted Ella, as her sister started pouring a bottle of cream soda into the glass. Lisa stared down at the mixture quietly, watching the liquid fizz and froth as it mixed with the ice-cream; she looked as though she was about to cry.

"I dunt care if you dunt wanna give me an answer," said Jack, his indignation rising. "My girlfriend dint want to answer when you keep askin' her questions 'bout where she be from, so why the hell do we gotta leave you alone when you start duckin' out of answerin' us?"

Lisa looked up fearfully from the drink that Samantha had been making.

"Jack, maybe we should - " she began.

"No, Lise, I _ain't _gonna leave," said Jack, folding his arms and scowling at the sisters. "No until they tell me why they ain't gonna serve me."

"Please, Jack, let's go," Lisa pleaded, grabbing him by the arm and trying to pull him away. "I don't care why they don't want us here… let's just get out of here and leave them alone, okay?"

"I think you'd better listen to your girlfriend there, kid," one of the customers spoke up. "She's got better sense than you. Don't go where you're not wanted, that's my advice."

"I ain't leavin'," repeated Jack stubbornly, glaring at the man. "An' I ain't gonna leave till I get an answer. How come you want us to leave? We dint do nothin' wrong an' we ain't gonna cause you no trouble, so why do you want us out so bad?"

"That's none of your business!" snapped Ella. "Now get out and don't come back. You and your girlfriend aren't welcome here."

"Why?" said a sharp, clear voice from the back of the café. Jack and Lisa turned round to look for the source of the objection, and saw Ellie approaching the counter at a swift pace.

"Why do they have to leave, when they haven't even done anything?" said Ellie indignantly. "Come on, all they came here for was lunch! What on earth did they do to deserve this kind of treatment?"

"Everyone knows what happened in Raccoon City," said Ella resentfully, and her sister immediately nodded. "They all died from some horrible disease. How do we know those two friends of yours haven't brought it with them? No, we're not having those kids infecting our customers. You tell them they're not welcome here."

"Tell them yourself, you ignorant cow," Ellie retorted, and headed straight for the door.

Too shocked to speak, Lisa looked from the departing girl to the sisters, wondering how they were going to respond. They looked stunned, as though they were still trying to figure out what had just happened. In the end, Samantha reacted first.

"Get out of here right now!" she yelled, pointing towards the door. "I don't ever want to see you or your friends in here again, Eleanor Johnson! You're banned, all three of you! Now get out!"

Jack was shaking with anger, but he didn't say anything. Instead he took Lisa firmly by the arm and led her towards the door, keeping his head resolutely downwards to avoid the customers' disapproving eyes. Lisa did the same, and although she noticed a few whispered comments as they passed by the tables, it was impossible to tell what was being said. She could guess, though, along which lines the general theme ran.

_More gossip. This is going to be all round the town before we know it. I knew this whole thing was a bad idea… we shouldn't have come here._

She glanced back at the two sisters. Samantha was stirring a cup of tea and muttering something while Ella, red-faced and furious, had started wiping down the counter. When they realised they were being watched, they both paused in their tasks and stared wordlessly at Lisa until she left.

It felt surreal, being turned away like this just because they were from a town that no longer existed. Lisa knew it wasn't fair, but there seemed to be a gaping void inside her where her outrage should have been, as though it had been removed and stored away somewhere - still real, still tangible, but somehow no longer accessible.

Ellie, on the other hand, seemed to have outrage to spare. She'd forgotten to take her backpack with her when she left, and had stormed back in to retrieve it. On seeing that she'd returned, a burly male customer had picked her up and was trying to manhandle her back through the door; however, Ellie wasn't about to give in without a fight.

"Get your hands off me!" she yelled, clinging to the doorframe. "This is completely undignified! You people have no right to - look, I just came back for my backpack, all right? All my school books are in there, and so is my insulin! I need those things, so let me get them and go!"

"You're not coming back in here, kid," growled the man, prising her fingers away from the doorframe. "Didn't you hear the ladies back there? You're banned!"

Ellie finally lost her grip and found herself being carried out bodily. This didn't subdue her at all; in fact, she seemed to redouble her efforts, kicking and struggling and yelling at the top of her voice.

"How dare you treat paying customers like this! You were the ones who started this crap in the first place! Put me down _this instant_!"

The man ignored her, and kept going until he finally managed to get her over the threshold - at which point, Ellie found herself being unceremoniously dumped on the sidewalk outside.

"Ow! Now look here, I don't give a toss if you lot don't want me here, but I need my insulin back! If I don't take that stuff when I'm supposed to, I could drop dead! You give me my backpack _right now_!"

The man dusted off his hands and went back inside. A moment later, Ellie got her wish; her backpack was thrown roughly out into the street after her. It landed hard on the sidewalk, with a thud that had probably shattered anything breakable in the backpack.

A brief, pained expression passed across Ellie's face as she picked herself up from the ground. She stood up, glowering at the open doorway, and yelled:

"You know what, I don't care! I wouldn't come back here if my life depended on it! You people wouldn't know what customer service was if it leapt out of a dark alley and - _and stunned you with a housebrick_!"

The door slammed abruptly, and the bell tinkled in the background - Lisa thought it seemed too cheerful a note on which to finish this bitter and protracted exchange. Ellie looked like she still had plenty of fight left in her, but instead she contented herself with snarling, "And your raspberry cheesecake is awful!", and turning her back on the café completely.

"Tasted like Play-Doh anyway," she muttered, putting her backpack back on. "Come on, we'd better get back before -"

Something caught her eye, and the tone of her voice suddenly changed.

"Oh, hi there," she said, brightening a little. "Haven't seen you about for a bit. You all right?"

Lisa and Jack had been standing outside the café, looking down at the sidewalk, but when they looked up and saw the recipient of Ellie's greeting, they were both struck dumb.

"Greetings Earthlings! Let the hate drain away! Barbecues? Don't mind if I do! Hooray!"

It was the Pigeon Lady, with three of her birds perched awkwardly on one shoulder. She was walking a little lopsidedly, as though she'd broken the heel on one of her scuffed red shoes, although the absence of the pigeons on her other shoulder might have caused this peculiar lack of balance. She smiled benevolently and nodded at Ellie, as though greeting an old friend - then, to their astonishment, winked at Jack and Lisa as she walked into the café.

"Fallen from grace, angels?" she commented, over her shoulder. "Won't be the first time. Still, no place like home, eh?"

Lisa peered after the old lady as she went inside, wondering how the other patrons would react to having such an odd character in their midst. Surprisingly, given their apparent dislike of strangers, nobody seemed troubled by the Pigeon Lady's presence. On the contrary, it looked as though she was being warmly welcomed. One of the other customers was even offering her a seat.

_Why are they welcoming her?_ Lisa found herself thinking, almost jealous of their reaction. _She's far weirder than we are, and if anyone's likely to be bringing diseases in with them, it'll be her and the birds - pigeons are about as unhygienic as they come! What's wrong with the people in this town? Are they all as crazy as she is, or have we just blinked and missed something here…?_

The door slammed shut and Lisa jumped, feeling slightly foolish for having lost herself so deeply in thought.

"Come on, Lise," she heard Jack say gruffly. "Time to go."

Part of her wanted to stay and watch the people's strange reaction to the Pigeon Lady, curious as to why they had greeted the odd little old lady and her birds with such affection. On the other hand, Jack and Ellie were already walking - no, _striding _away, quickly and with force, as though both were determined to get away as fast from the place as possible and never, ever return.

She broke into a pace that wasn't quite a run until she'd caught up with them again, then fell into step beside them. Neither of them looked at her; their eyes were fixed firmly on the street ahead.

They walked along the edge of the sidewalk, lost in silence and thought. After a while, Lisa glanced at her companions, hoping that they would say something. Jack's expression was dark and sullen, and he was glowering down at his shoes as though he hated them. Ellie's expression, by contrast, had lost its previous ferocity; she seemed to have given up on this particular fight.

"Well," she said at last, looking downcast. "That wasn't much fun. You two all right?"

Jack's silence spoke much louder than words. Lisa could tell he was seething with rage underneath the surface, but there was hurt there, too; she'd only known him for a couple of months, but she knew him well enough to recognise the signs. She tried to put her hand on his arm, to console him, but he shook it off again straight away.

Lisa understood, and let her hands drop to her sides. Jack always retreated into himself when he was particularly angry and hurt; comfort was no comfort to him when he was in this kind of mood. Ellie, however, must have thought that he'd pushed her away out of spite, because she said:

"Hey, Lisa? You all right?"

"I'm fine," said Lisa, although this wasn't true. The injustice of being thrown out of the café stung, and the memory of those stares only served to rub salt into the wound. Was this how it was going to be, wherever they went? Would their next move be any better than this, or would they be persecuted for the rest of their lives for the heinous crime of having survived Raccoon City?

"You sure?" said Ellie.

"No," burst out Lisa, much to her own surprise, "I'm not. Why are they doing this to us? They don't even know anything about us, so why do they hate us so much?"

The outrage that should have come to her aid earlier, when she needed it, was arriving late. Unfortunately, humiliation had followed it home; she realised suddenly that she'd never been thrown out of a public place before, much less banned. She was just glad that her parents weren't alive to see her get into trouble - they would have been mortified to find out that she'd been banned from someone's store.

Her eyes were already watering, but the thought of her late mother and father watching her from the heavens with disappointment in their eyes finally set tears in motion. Ellie made a sympathetic noise, and put an arm around her shoulders.

"Hey, now, don't cry," she told Lisa. "It's all right. We'll get them back somehow. I can always phone the environmental health people and shop them for letting pigeons in the place. Those things are health hazards with wings. Reckon we could get the place shut down?"

"They prob'ly dunt mind pigeon crap," muttered Jack, kicking a stone along the sidewalk. "They think it be a whole lot better'n havin' us around."

"I'm sorry," Lisa said, wiping her eyes ferociously. "It's just the way they were staring at us. They hate us, Ellie, and I don't know why! We're not infected, we're not going to cause trouble or hurt anybody… we haven't done anything wrong! Why are they making up all these stupid stories about us?"

Ellie exhaled heavily; a sound that came somewhere in between exasperation and weariness. She clenched her fists, for just a second, then allowed them to unclench again.

"Because they can," she said finally. "Because people are stupid. Especially here. I thought this godawful place was falling apart when I first came here, but I think people here are getting progressively _more _stupid by the day. I swear they must be putting something in the water here. And as for that bloody nosy cow from the florist's, if I see a brick today, it's going through her window and that's that. If anyone asks where I am between ten and eleven tonight, I'll be at your place playing Monopoly, okay?"

In spite of herself, and all her scruples, Lisa found herself starting to smile.

"There you go," said Ellie, grinning. "See, life's not so bad once you stop caring about what other people think. Just ignore them, okay? And if they keep making your life a misery, well, there aren't many problems that can't be solved with a decent-sized brick. They'll be looking for their windows for a week if they try something like that again… bunch of small-minded, superstitious, two-toed inbred morons."

And that, it seemed, was that. They walked back to school, blended in with the crowd returning from the cafeteria, and allowed the day to continue onwards, taking them along with it. All seemed fine during Physics, a fifty minute-period presided over by Mr Chiltern - a dry, boring and somewhat oblivious man who didn't seem to even notice that at least half of his students were spending the time dozing at their desks.

It was during Mrs Blumenthal's Mathematics class that Lisa noticed something unusual. At the desk beside hers, Jack was glaring down at the set of quadratic equations that they'd been given to complete. He still looked more angry than she'd ever seen him before, but he was working his way through the complex set of problems at a furious pace. Jack was a bright student with a good grasp of mathematics, but even he normally struggled with work this difficult.

"How are you doing that?" she whispered across the gap between the desks.

"Doin' what?" said Jack, without looking up from his numbers.

"How are you getting through those so quickly?" said Lisa. "I've been looking at this third one for ten minutes now and I still can't figure it out. Don't tell me you think they're easy…"

Jack just shrugged.

"Easy when you look at 'em," he said, and carried on working.

"I wouldn't exactly call them easy," muttered Lisa, but she returned her eyes to her own paper and focused again on the third equation. It didn't seem to be getting any easier, no matter how hard she looked at it; it was as though the letters and numbers were determined to stay the way they were, defying all her attempts to unravel them.

She sighed, and put down her pencil. No matter what Jack had said, solving these problems wasn't in the slightest bit easy, and she wished that she could make the numbers dance for her as effortlessly as he could.

_How can he do these things so fast? This one's impossible and he's acting like it's as simple as adding two and two! I know he's good at math, but how did he get this good?_

It was a silly question, she realised, as the answer resurfaced. It was part of the L-Virus' poisoned legacy - an occasional, temporary boost of Jack's physical and mental abilities. Useful though they had once been, these meagre benefits now sapped his strength so badly that they hardly seemed worth the asking price.

"You want me to do those, Lise?"

Lisa glanced down at Jack's paper and saw the entire sheet of equations neatly completed.

"You finished those already?" she said.

"Sure."

"And you're asking to do mine?"

"Well, you ain't doin' 'em," Jack pointed out. "An' I ain't got nothin' to do, so we can switch papers till the end of class. That way you got somethin' to hand in to the teacher if she ask for it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I can do these in no time."

"Well, all right. I guess I could do with some help."

"Okay, pass it here, I do it for you."

Lisa waited until Mrs Blumenthal's back was turned, then silently laid her paper on Jack's desk. No sooner had it come to rest on the wooden surface than Jack pressed the point of his pencil against it and began scribbling furiously.

Although this temporary spell of genius was coming in handy, Lisa was glad that the after-effects of the virus seemed to be wearing off. She knew that in a few hours' time, Jack would be lying on the couch at home, almost too exhausted to move. Seeing him so drained was a nasty reminder that he'd almost died from his infection, and she couldn't wait until the last remnants of the virus finally left his system altogether. She assumed that it would happen soon - but then again, of course, it might not.

What if it didn't, and the side-effects were permanent? She dreaded the possibility of having to spend the rest of her life watching Jack's occasional, artificial spells of athletic prowess and academic brilliance overshadow his natural strength and intellect and reduce him to an exhausted heap in their wake, so tired he could barely speak or move. It seemed a cruel fate for someone who had been so full of optimism and vitality when she first met him, and she hoped that he would be rid of the virus' shadow soon.

_The sooner, the better… for both our sakes._

xxxxxxxxxx

As Lisa had feared, the walk home hadn't been easy. The moment they'd left the classroom at the end of the school day, Jack had complained that he was tired and short of breath. The fresh air had helped slightly, once they left the school building and went outside, but even though Lisa had stopped several times to let him catch up with her, he'd still lagged behind her most of the way.

By the time they'd finally opened the front door of the house at 2241 Pinewood Avenue and climbed the stairs to their apartment, Jack had been on the verge of collapse. He'd stumbled through the front door, into the living room and fallen face-first onto the couch. In the ten or fifteen minutes that had followed, he hadn't moved once.

He was still lying motionless when Lisa went into the kitchen to make herself some coffee. At first she thought he'd fallen asleep, but as she switched the kettle on, she heard a plaintive voice call out:

"Lise… can you get me some water?"

"Sure," Lisa called back. "Hold on a second, I'll be right there."

When she went back into the living room, glass of water in hand, she saw that Jack had managed to find enough strength to sit up a little. Still pale and tired-looking, propped up by the cushions behind his back, he looked little better than when she'd left him, but he tried to smile when he saw her.

"Hey," said Lisa, kneeling beside the couch. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," came the answer. "Real tired… how 'bout that water?"

Lisa held the glass up to Jack's lips and watched him take a few sips of water. He swallowed, then let his head fall back into the cushions again.

"I'm not surprised you're tired," Lisa told him, as she set the glass down on the coffee table. "You had a rough day and you pushed yourself way too hard this afternoon. You didn't eat anything at lunch either."

"No like I had the chance," said Jack bitterly. "Ellie shoulda just kept her mouth shut… look what she get us into, Lise."

"I know. Look, I'm just going to get my coffee, okay? I'll be right back."

"'kay."

In the time that it took her to get up, go into the kitchen and return with her mug of coffee, some colour had returned to Jack's cheeks and he was already pulling himself up into a sitting position. Lisa sat down in the nearest armchair with her coffee mug, and watched him in between sips.

"It wasn't fair, what they did to us earlier," she said quietly, once it became clear that Jack wasn't going to break the silence. "Don't blame Ellie for all this. From the way they were talking, they probably knew who we were already. They led us straight into a trap and I was stupid enough to take the bait. I'm sorry."

"You dunt need to be sorry, Lise," sighed Jack, closing his eyes. "You dint do nothin' wrong."

"I'm not so sure about that," Lisa said uncomfortably.

Jack's eyes opened.

"Huh? How do you mean, you ain't sure?" he said, turning onto his side to look at her.

Lisa looked down into her coffee mug.

"We lied to Ellie," she burst out. "About the virus - about Raccoon City. I know we said we weren't going to talk about it to anyone, but I didn't think we'd have to resort to lying to somebody's face when they already know what happened."

"Ellie dint know what happened," Jack interrupted.

"But she figured it out, Jack!" protested Lisa, putting down her coffee mug. "We denied the whole thing and called her a liar when we know perfectly well it's all true!"

"So you think we oughta just admit to everythin' an' tell everybody who ask us that we be from Raccoon City?" said Jack, scowling. "Yeah, great idea. Let everyone know who we be an' where we be from - it work out real good for us back there at the café, dint it?"

"Then we just have to spend our whole lives lying to people about who we are, and acting like the whole thing never happened?" said Lisa.

"I speak to Maddy after she yell at me that one time," said Jack tersely. "She tell me it ain't a good idea to talk to people 'bout Raccoon City an' that if we gotta talk 'bout our past then we should make it up, like her."

"And you think that's all right?" said Lisa.

"She say it be the only way we gonna survive!" said Jack, his scowl deepening. "Lise, dunt get me wrong, I dunt like it either, but if stuff like what just happen today keep on happenin', we gonna end up bein' run out of town - or worse! What if Umbrella find us here? What you think they gonna do to a pair of survivors from Raccoon City who can destroy Lucifer an' end one of they pet projects?"

"Umbrella won't be looking for us here," said Lisa. She could feel her voice shaking, even though she kept telling herself that her words were true. "That's why Dr H and the others brought us here. So we'd be safe."

"An' what 'bout that new Umbrella facility Ellie think they be buildin' out in the forest? How safe we gonna be once they start that thing up? They gonna be right next door to us, Lise, an' if they find out we be here - "

"They won't," said Lisa. "We don't even know for sure that Ellie's information is right."

"What if she be right?"

"Then we warn the others what's happening and move on. We'll be gone long before Umbrella ever find out we were here in the first place."

"An' what we be supposed to do in the meantime, get in more trouble with the locals? Hell, I know we ain't gonna be here for long, but I just wanna get through this with no problems, okay? I dunt care what it take… I just want people to leave us alone so we can get on with our lives."

"Jack, I know you don't want us to be run out of town or tracked down by Umbrella, and neither do I, but I don't think a life based on lies is going to solve anything!" insisted Lisa. "We'll have to keep on running and hiding and lying all the time, and every time someone works out who we are, we'll have to move on and start all over again… where is it going to end? None of this is our fault, Jack! We've got nothing to be ashamed of! We only have to stay here until Amber and the others bring down Umbrella, and then we can get back to normal - "

Jack stood up suddenly.

"You dunt get it," he said angrily. "We ain't just hidin' from Umbrella, we be hidin' from everybody else too! Just look what they do to us today! They think we be monsters or got some horrible disease, or that we only be alive 'cause we kill a bunch of other people to get out of the city! How the hell we gonna convince 'em we ain't? Face it, Lise, normal people dunt go through the stuff we did an' come out alive… c'mon, look at me! Look at the stuff I can do now - that ain't normal! An' you ain't normal either, 'cause normal girls dunt have parents who make monsters in Umbrella's basements!"

Tense silence followed the outburst as Lisa tried to work out what to say next, and failed. She could feel the resentment pouring from Jack; he was right, of course. She knew he was right, and so did he. There was no denying that they'd lied in order to avoid being noticed and keep both themselves and Ellie safe, and that letting people find out even an ounce of truth about their true identities had done them no good whatsoever. It didn't feel right, doing what they were doing, but perhaps it was necessary, for their own safety and for some semblance of a normal life. Guilt was probably just something she'd have to learn to live with.

"I'm sorry, Jack," she admitted. "You're right. We aren't normal, and we need to stay out of trouble. I just wish there was some other way of doing it, that's all."

"There ain't," Jack said bluntly, sitting down again and putting his head in his hands. "We just gotta get through this until we can leave."

"Yeah," said Lisa, sighing. "One thing still gets me, though. What the Pigeon Lady was doing there. Why was everyone so happy to see her when she walked in? She's even less normal than we are, so how come she got such a warm welcome from those people?"

Jack shrugged.

"Dunt know. Guess maybe they be used to her by now. 'sides, she ain't gonna hurt nobody or bring more diseases into the town than they prob'ly got already. She just be some crazy old lady who talk to pigeons, so maybe they think there ain't no harm in bein' nice to her. No like she be a threat to them, right?"

"Right," agreed Lisa.

She picked up her coffee, which was already beginning to go cold, and started to drink it again.

"Still," she said aloud. "It was weird what she said. Like she already knows plenty about us."

Jack sighed, and it was the kind of sigh that exuded impatience in every molecule of air breathed out.

"Lise, like I tell you b'fore, she be a crazy old lady. She dunt know nothin' 'bout us. Maybe you think it make sense, but what she say to you dunt sound like anythin' much to me. I think you be readin' far too much into it."

"But don't you think it was strange?" Lisa continued. "That stuff she said about us falling from grace, and that it wouldn't be the first time… what do you think she meant by that?"

"I dunt _care_, Lise," said Jack. He was starting to sound irritable again, and Lisa knew she should probably stop talking before he lost patience with her altogether. Something perverse was at work in her today, however, because she couldn't stop herself from saying:

"I still think she knows what happened. She may be crazy but she's trying to tell us something, I'm sure of it… I just don't get why you won't pay any attention to her. Why won't you listen to her? What are you afraid of?"

Jack stood up again, and this time Lisa knew she'd gone too far. His eyes were blazing, his face set in furious creases, and while he still looked exhausted and ill, anger seemed to be lending him new strength.

"I ain't afraid of some old lady's crazy talk!" he said, so fiercely that Lisa flinched in her chair. "Why the hell should I listen to her when she dunt talk no sense? Now that I think 'bout it, why the hell should I listen to you either? You ain't talkin' no more sense than her! Honesty ain't the best policy an' you know it, so why tell me it ain't right to try an' keep us both outta trouble? I already had enough trouble to last my whole life - I dunt need any more from you or anyone else in this town!"

He snatched up his backpack and skateboard from their resting places beside the couch, and strode towards the front door. Alarmed, Lisa put down her mug again and hurried after him.

"Jack, I don't want to cause any trouble either," she said anxiously, grabbing his elbow. "I just - "

"Look, I dunt care! Just shut up an' leave me alone!" Jack yelled back at her.

He pulled his arm free and stormed out through the front door. Lisa hurried after him, and saw him heading down the main stairs.

"Jack, where are you going?" she called after him.

"Outside," she heard him mutter. "I need some fresh air. I be back later."

"Well… all right, but you take care, okay?" said Lisa nervously, still watching him as he disappeared downstairs.

She got no response, but it wasn't until she heard the door slam downstairs that she realised that a goodbye wasn't on the cards. Very reluctantly, she went back inside and closed the door behind her.

She curled up on the couch for a minute or two, wondering what to do, but when no immediate distraction presented itself, she got up and looked out through the glass panes of the French doors. After a few more minutes, she sat down beside the doors and stared out at the grey, fading daylight, wondering when Jack would return - or if he would even return at all.

_No, don't be stupid,_ she scolded herself. _Of course he's coming back. He just needs some space and some time to cool off. He's going to come home again soon, and when he does, we'll make up and everything will be fine again. I just hope he's going to be all right out there by himself…_

xxxxxxxxxx

Jack breathed in deeply, and closed his eyes for a brief, blissful moment as the cooling air flowed around him. This was the first time since his arrival in Arklay; the first time he'd felt truly free since he got here.

He was riding through unfamiliar streets under a dull and darkening sky, passing boarded-up storefronts and dilapidated houses that looked grey and washed-out. It was the most depressing place he'd ever seen, a thousand times worse than even the worst parts of downtown Raccoon City. He could feel the hopelessness and the despair crushing this town like a dead weight resting on the rooftops, but for now that weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

This lightness of heart was the best feeling in the world. Nothing mattered when you could take off like this, when you could just jump up and sail through the air, when you could fly…

… if only for a little while. He felt his skateboard succumb to gravity, dragging him back to earth again. The wheels made contact with the sidewalk and he shuddered as the jolt went through his body. The jump from one curb to another had given him some momentum and the pure joy of speed and movement was taking over, although he wasn't moving fast enough to forget his troubles just yet.

Damn them. Damn everyone in this stupid, grey town whose better days had long since passed - these stupid people who knew nothing, and resented and feared all the things they knew nothing about. The memory of what had happened today still filled him from top to toe with a bitter and unquenchable rage, colouring his thoughts red with anger and black with hate.

He turned the corner of the street on the edge of a curb and kept going, maintaining his balance perfectly until he tired of the stunt and hopped back up onto the sidewalk.

_How dare they ruin my life_, he thought, rolling past another row of faceless storefronts and feeling broken glass grind under the wheels. They had no right and no reason to do this to him when he'd done nothing wrong. And as for Lisa -

The thought of Lisa was accompanied by an unexpected, vicious stab of hatred, and Jack felt himself scowl. What the hell was wrong with her? Why couldn't she just shut up about what happened? Why did she have to keep talking about those idiots and that crazy old lady as though everything they'd said actually mattered? What had happened was as much her fault as Ellie's - she'd made things worse by blurting out that denial, and now she was objecting to moving on and trying to forget about everything because she felt _guilty _about it? What did she expect them to do, dance naked down the street singing "We're from Raccoon City" so everyone could avoid them even more? Hadn't they been hurt enough already?

That thought almost stopped him dead in his tracks; had it not been for the skateboard carrying him onwards, he would have paused completely.

He wasn't the only one who'd been hurt. If anything, Lisa had been far more upset by their lunchtime ordeal than he had, and now he realised he hadn't made any effort to take care of his girlfriend at all. Ellie had been the one who'd comforted Lisa afterwards, and all he'd done was pick an argument with Lisa when she tried to get things off her chest, yell at her to shut up, then slam the front door behind him like a small child having a tantrum.

He thought of Lisa again, and this time the stab of emotion in his chest was guilt. He'd left her on her own when she needed him most, just so he could go off and sulk. Now his imagination was conjuring up terrible pictures of her sitting all alone in the apartment, with no idea where he was or when he was coming home, crying and afraid as the shadows of the night closed in.

"Oh, man," he murmured, slowing to a halt. "I better go home, see if she be okay."

He turned around and started to head back the way he'd just come. Guilt was still stabbing away at his chest, little shooting pains that seemed to be getting sharper and more intense. He took a deep breath, to try and relax the tension in his muscles, only to wince as another burst of pain shot through his chest.

"Ow…"

He took another breath and let it out again, but this time the pain didn't fade. If anything, it intensified. Breathing slowly to control it, Jack tried to straighten up and carry on, but after just two steps he doubled up in agony.

This wasn't guilt, Jack realised, clutching his chest. Whatever this was, it wasn't the by-product of whatever was going on in his head. He suddenly wished he hadn't been so stupid, and that he'd stayed at the apartment instead. If he had, he'd still be lying on the couch, in Lisa's tender and capable care, not out here on cold and unknown streets with his chest constricting for reasons unknown.

As he struggled for air and found, to his horror, that the next breath wouldn't come, he realised that something was badly wrong. With an incredible effort, he managed to force some air into his protesting lungs, only to double up again, coughing violently. Each attempt to control the coughing fit just seemed to prolong his struggle to breathe, and the pain in his chest showed no signs of abating.

Too racked with pain to stand, he fell to his hands and knees, still gasping for breath. His chest and throat both ached with the effort of coughing so hard, and the world was nothing more now than an indistinct grey blur, barely visible at all through his stinging, streaming eyes.

Swallowing the dryness in his mouth, Jack tried to suck in some air, but his chest heaved again and the breath he'd captured in his burning throat escaped as another wheezing, desperate cough from the very bottom of his lungs. The world swam momentarily into focus as he wiped his streaming eyes and tried to prop himself up, but he immediately wished it hadn't.

"Oh God…"

Jack stared down, horrified, at the spots of red on the sidewalk. There were only a few of them, perhaps the size of pinpricks, but their presence and the metallic taste of blood at the back of his throat were enough to send a chill straight through to his bones.

Gradually, the coughing subsided and the pain's grip on his chest loosened just enough for him to breathe. Jack struggled to his feet, looking around wildly for any sign of human presence. The street was empty; he didn't know whether to feel frightened by the fact that there was nobody here to help him, or relieved that nobody had seen him collapse to his knees and cough up blood. The last thing he needed, right now, was to scare everyone away by making them think he had something contagious, especially after what had happened earlier.

_How can I be contagious? Lise an' the others give me that antivirus thing an' cure me. Sure I still get tired an' cough sometimes, but never this bad! I gotta get home to Lisa right now. She know 'bout medicine, so she gonna know what to do._

Jack wiped his mouth on his sleeve, got back on his skateboard and headed unsteadily for home. Block after block streamed past, grey and white streaked occasionally with yellow as the encroaching evening drew forth illumination from the town's streetlights.

Poverty gave way to relative prosperity after a few minutes' travel, and now he could see some storefronts that were still active, clinging to as much life as they could muster in this dying town. More houses and apartments were showing signs of occupation, even some careful maintenance here and there.

He followed these meagre signs of life, tracing his path back through the town to more familiar ground. Before long, he was back in the middle of Arklay, only a few minutes away from home.

As he passed the grand outline of the city hall, he heard a thumping bassline somewhere in the distance. As the noise grew closer, he heard the sound of an approaching car, along with some whoops and shouts. In the few short months that he'd lived in downtown Raccoon City, Jack had grown so used to traffic noise, loud music and the sounds of rowdy party-goers from the surrounding streets that he'd learned to filter them out, so he didn't pay any attention to it.

Even when the car rolled into view and the bassline became the repetitive loud thud of a rap track, punctuated by yells and laughter, he hardly noticed until the vehicle stopped in the middle of the town square. It was then that he realised that the shouting was directed at him.

"Hey, pretty-boy! What you doing out here? Looking for your girlfriend?"

Jack looked up sharply and saw a gleaming black BMW convertible sitting across the street. It looked not unlike the one he and Lisa had used in an attempt to force their way out of Raccoon City. Jake Maddigan was at the wheel, casually smoking a cigarette, while Herb smirked at him from the passenger seat. Russell and two blonde girls were lounging in the back and drinking what looked like imported Scandinavian beer.

"Nah, just lookin' round," Jack answered as he pulled to a halt.

The girls in the back tittered, and Herb's smirk broadened, but Jake didn't say anything. He blew out a cloud of smoke, letting it hang in the cold evening air above the car, then said:

"Need a ride?"

Jack shook his head.

"No thanks."

"Good, because you're not getting one," said one of the girls, and Jack recognised the voice as the one belonging to Hazel Jefferson.

"Yeah, like we'd really make room for someone like _you_," said the other girl, Leticia, and she laughed.

"Sweet ride, don't you think?" Jake remarked, drawing Jack's attention straight back to him. "My dad bought it for me. Guess your dad couldn't afford one for you, huh?"

"My dad ain't around," said Jack, and he looked away.

"Don't blame him," said Leticia scornfully. "I wouldn't stick around for you either."

"So, what do you think?" said Jake, and again Jack's attention was brought back to the driver's seat. "You like it?"

"Sure," Jack answered nervously. The back of his throat was dry and still hurt; his response sounded raspy, almost as though he was trying to whisper. "I drive one like it once."

Jake raised his eyebrows.

"Is that so?" he said.

"Yeah," said Jack. He couldn't help wondering where the other boy wanted this conversation to lead. Was he just showing off, or did he have another aim in mind?

"What'd you do to it?" interrupted Russell, from the back seat.

"Crashed tryin' to leave the city," said Jack, hoping the statement would spin itself into something that sounded more ordinary than the truth had been. "Had to ditch it."

"Zombies took a bite out of it, huh?" said Herb, grinning, and the others laughed.

"Somethin' like that," mumbled Jack.

"They take a bite out of you too, pretty-boy?" said Jake.

"Nah, too fast for 'em," said Jack, forcing a smile.

If the audience had been more friendly, they might have laughed it off, but the grins of the car's occupants remained fixed and the silence lasted slightly too long.

"You're full of shit, Carpenter," said Herb, after a moment.

"Dunt give a damn what you think," said Jack defensively.

"So, you're a skater," said Jake, changing the subject with the diplomatic smoothness that he'd presumably inherited from his father.

Jack nodded.

"Yeah?" said Jake, his interest apparently piqued by this. "Who were you hooked up with?"

"The Street Rats," Jack answered.

"Street Rats, huh?" said Jake dismissively, lighting up another cigarette. "Small-time crowd."

"Must've took pity on him," said Russell, draining his bottle. He tossed it out into the street and Jack saw it shatter on the asphalt. He felt as though his only, slight chance of impressing the boys, or at least make them respect him enough to leave him alone, had been tossed away and broken in the same moment.

"Got in any fights?" said Herb.

"Only with the uptown kids," replied Jack. "I ain't interested in gang wars."

"That 'cause they kicked your ass too many times?" Herb taunted.

Jack had had enough. Whatever this was, it was getting ridiculous. He turned away from them and got back on his board.

"No way. I got better things to do than fight," he muttered.

"So you take your skating seriously, huh, small-timer?" said Jake, passing his lighter to Russell in the back. "It just so happens I'm a pretty good skater myself. How about a contest? Maybe you and I can skate it out sometime, see who's the best."

"Forget it," said Jack shortly, and started to leave.

"What's wrong, pretty-boy? Scared you'll lose?" Jake called after him.

"You kiddin' me? Best skater in Raccoon City," said Jack, as he turned back to face the other boy. "No way I be scared of losin' to someone like you."

"Then I guess you won't mind a little competition," said Jake, and he smiled.

"Dunt think you could call it a competition," Jack retorted.

_Jeez, I be sick of this. This idiot think he can skate good enough to beat me just 'cause he be the mayor's son an' he got a skateboard? The hell with that. I could wipe the floor with him, an' maybe I should, so he dunt go round shootin' his mouth off when he dunt know nothin' 'bout the Raccoon City skaters._

"Think you can compete with me, huh?" said Jake. He was still smiling, but the smile was threatening to become a sneer at any moment. "Why don't you put your money where your mouth is and prove it, pretty-boy?"

"All right," said Jack. He could feel his patience fraying at the edges. "You wanna see who be the best, you got it. When an' where?"

"The construction site on the edge of town," Jake said calmly. "Tomorrow at dawn."

"Fine," snapped Jack.

"Then it's agreed," said Jake, with another broad smile. "We'll see you there."

Jack watched the BMW cruise away in a blur of tail-lights, cigarette smoke and loud music, then groaned and kicked himself hard on the ankle. What the hell had he been thinking? All that resentful, fierce pride had done was get him into trouble. A skating competition with the school bully was too risky, and even if he did win, the only prize would be a slightly better reputation and a beating from his opponents. Admittedly, there was honour at stake, but if he lost this challenge then he'd have dragged the name of the Street Rats into this fight for nothing.

"Idiot," he said furiously to himself, as he sped his way home. "Idiot, idiot, idiot… how could you be so _stupid_?"

By the time he found himself back in Pinewood Avenue, his anger with himself had turned into a gnawing, cold dread that numbed him from head to toe, a horrible feeling nestling right in the pit of his stomach. He'd just talked himself into big trouble and tomorrow morning that trouble was going to hit him full in the face. What had he done?

With a heavy heart, Jack picked up his skateboard and went through the gates of 2241 Pinewood Avenue. He walked up the path, wondering how on earth he was going to explain the evening's events to Lisa, and went through the front door into the hall.

"Could you shut the front door behind you, dear?" came a woman's voice from somewhere inside the first-floor apartment. "There's a terrible draught coming in tonight."

"Sure thing, Mrs Winfield," Jack replied half-heartedly, already closing the door behind him. He trudged up the staircase to the next floor and opened the front door of the apartment.

"Jack!"

Lisa burst out through the doorway and flung her arms around him, so violently that Jack was almost sent flying backwards.

"Oh, Jack, I was getting worried!" she exclaimed, and hugged him. "Where have you been? I'm sorry if I upset you earlier - are you all right?"

Jack shook his head and pulled away from Lisa's embrace.

"No, Lise," he said desperately, looking down into her eyes. He could feel a lump bobbing in his throat and he suddenly wanted to throw himself back into Lisa's arms, so he could feel safe enough to cry.

He saw Lisa's eyebrows sink downwards, her wide-eyed relief at his return instantly becoming the look of gentle concern that he'd seen more times than he could count over the past few weeks.

"Jack, what's wrong?" she said, as Jack's arms folded around her and she felt herself being drawn into a tighter, more urgent hug. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Jack closed his eyes tightly and clung to Lisa as hard as he could, breathing in the faint herbal-shampoo scent of her hair and hoping she couldn't see the look on his face.

"Lise," he murmured, burying his face in her long hair, "I think I just do somethin' real stupid…"


	9. Dirty Tricks

**9: Dirty Tricks**

**Thursday 22nd October, 1998**

Ellie looked mortified.

"You did _what_?"

They were hurrying through the early morning mist to the edge of town. Ellie hadn't been pleased at being dragged out of bed first thing in the morning, but she'd dressed as quickly as she could and joined them anyway. Even with her khaki jacket on top, the jeans and black t-shirt she'd picked out weren't enough to keep out the mist's chill, and she was shivering.

"Jake challenge me to a skate-off," said Jack shamefacedly. "I take him up on it."

Ellie frowned.

"And you thought that was a _good _idea?" she said. "You stupid, stupid sod. Of all the terminally daft things to do… you do realise you're going to go home with at least one leg facing the wrong way, don't you?"

Jack felt sick. He'd spent most of the night lying awake in his bunk bed, wondering how he'd got himself into this mess. Sleep had been elusive and he'd managed no more than two or three hours, if that. The rest of the time had been spent awaiting the morning with a fearful heart, and Ellie's scolding wasn't making him feel any better.

"But it's only a skating contest, right?" Lisa was saying, possibly more for her own reassurance than anything else. "I mean, it's not like he's agreed to a - a fist-fight in the middle of the schoolyard, or anything like that. Right?"

"I don't think you understand, Lisa," said Ellie severely. "This isn't about skating. The reason Jake's challenging Jack is so he can have the excuse to give him a good kicking in front of everybody and show them all that _he's _still top dog at Arklay High. It's a popularity contest, and believe me, Jack won't win."

"How do you know Jack won't beat him?" said Lisa. "Jack's an excellent skater. I bet he could beat Jake with both hands behind his back."

"It's not that I don't have faith in Jack's skating ability," said Ellie, more patiently this time. "On the contrary, I think Jack _could _beat him, and pretty easily too. But he won't."

"How do you know that?" said Lisa defensively.

"Because nobody ever beats Jake Maddigan," was Ellie's cryptic answer. "You'll see why soon enough."

The sun was already rising when they reached the construction site. Though it was still hanging low on the horizon, light was flooding into the mountains, painting the sky in shades of vivid pink and gold.

The view from here was spectacular. To the east and west were the forest-cloaked mountains, extending so far in both directions that they seemed almost infinite; to the south was a huge, barren plain. Had Raccoon City still existed, it would have been clearly visible from this vantage point. Instead there were some hazy scars on the landscape and a few broken black lines, remnants of roads that now led nowhere.

If the butterflies of apprehension hadn't been hovering in his stomach, Jack might have been able to admire the beauty all around him as the dawn light cut through the mist. Instead, he was trying very hard to remember that he'd faced death, and died, and still survived the kind of ordeal that went far beyond the realms of any sane imagination. Common sense told him that a skating competition with the school bully couldn't _possibly _be worse than dying deep beneath the corpse-strewn streets of Raccoon City, where disease and madness had raged unchecked until every gutter ran red with blood. So why were his hands trembling at his sides?

He was sure that Lisa was almost as nervous as he was. After confessing everything to her last night, she'd paled and said:

"Oh, Jack… you didn't…"

She'd refrained from telling him it was a stupid thing to do, but the look in her eyes had told him more than all the words she'd left unspoken. The worst thing was, he knew she was right. Even now, she looked distracted and fretful, looking around for the first signs of the trouble that she knew was coming.

The construction site was a large, roughly rectangular area of land surfaced with tarmac, poured concrete and paving slabs, surrounded by semi-overgrown land and patches of forest. At its centre was the shell of a building, incomplete and now derelict. The rest of the site was littered with piles of building materials, sections of huge concrete pipes that must have been for drainage, and a few makeshift ramps constructed from sheet metal, thick plywood boards and piles of bricks.

It was a far cry from the streets and skate parks Jack had been used to. The ramps appeared stable enough, if a little weathered, but cracks were visible in the walls of the unfinished building and the concrete was starting to crumble away in places. Without intervention, it wouldn't be long before the structure began to collapse in on itself from lack of maintenance.

"They started building a hotel here years ago, back when the tourist trade was still up and running," said Ellie, by way of explanation. "Mrs Blumenthal said the owners went bust after all the tourists left, and they never finished it. It's been sitting here empty ever since."

"Plenty of sightseers now," said Jack shakily. He could see a few other teenagers watching curiously from the sidelines. They looked almost as bleary-eyed as he did, blinking in the sunlight, but they were murmuring to each other with an insistency that belied their lack of energy. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but guessed it was some half-hearted speculation about whether he could really challenge Jake or whether he, like many others before him, would get pounded so far into the ground that he struck oil.

He felt Lisa grip his elbow.

"You don't have to do this," she said, quietly, so nobody else could hear. "Just turn around and walk away. I know how good you are, and so do you. You don't have to prove anything to anybody."

Jack wanted desperately to heed Lisa's advice. Walking away was the smart thing to do. If he withdrew, he wouldn't get himself killed or maimed on this disintegrating building site for the sake of a stupid contest - nor would he run the risk of losing to someone who'd gleefully rub his face in the failure. But while he knew he didn't have to be here, he knew he couldn't back out. Failure would hurt his reputation, but a retreat would reek of cowardice and hand Jake Maddigan a victory that he didn't deserve. Worse, it would allow his new nemesis to go on belittling the Street Rats as small-time losers, and that thought hurt far more than bruises or wounded pride.

"I ain't scared of him," he lied. "He ain't gonna call me a coward 'cause I dint show up today. I gonna show him what I can do an' show everybody who be the better skater. Just you wait."

Lisa looked doubtful, but she didn't argue. Instead, she gave him a short nod. Jack was surprised. He'd expected her to beg and plead with him further, in the hope he might give in, but she seemed to have accepted his decision.

"I _know _you're better than him," she said emphatically. "Just don't try too hard to prove it, okay? After all," she added, this time with a faint hint of mischief, "I'm sure you wouldn't want to embarrass him."

Jack almost smiled. He wasn't sure if Lisa genuinely believed he could win this contest, because she looked so afraid, but she was doing her best to convince him that he could. He'd survived the horrors of Raccoon City because of Lisa and her hope, and knowing that she was behind him once again, placing her faith in his ability to pull through despite the odds, was enough to lend him a little courage.

Ellie was looking around at the construction site and its environs.

"I wonder if he's going to turn up," she said. "He'd better get a move on if he wants to do this. He's running late."

Jack's spirits started to rise. Dawn had been the agreed time, but Jake still wasn't here. Perhaps he wasn't coming, he thought. Perhaps he could still get out of this with his dignity intact…

"Do you think he's actually going to show, Jack?" said Lisa, a minute or two later. "I'm starting to wonder if he's set you up."

"Why would he do that?" said Jack.

Lisa shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know. Maybe he thinks it's funny to get you out of bed early so you can hang round an abandoned construction site in the cold while he sleeps in. That or he's trying to get you in trouble for trespassing."

"Doubt it," Ellie cut in. "Nobody's sure who owns this place any more. It's been abandoned for years and years and I think it was complicated even before that. Dad says the property department at his firm are still trying to figure it out. For all they know, it might even be public property."

The last of the sun had emerged now, and Jack risked a smile as the ball of gold began its ascent. Jake wasn't coming. Now who was the coward, he thought. It wasn't him, that was for sure. No, that honour went to Jake, who was too scared to show up for fear of being resoundingly beaten in a competition. What was he saying? He probably couldn't skate at all…

"In a way," said a calm, lazy voice somewhere behind them, "it is public property. My father said back in the spring that if nobody came forward to stake a claim to this plot of land within six months, ownership would revert automatically to the town of Arklay."

The heads of the crowd turned. Lisa, Jack and Ellie turned with them and saw Jake, walking serenely through the thin tendrils of mist that still surrounded the construction site. There was a skateboard tucked underneath his arm. He was flanked on either side by Herb and Russell, whose expressions were mean and threatening, possibly worsened by the earliness of the hour. Jake, on the other hand, looked well-rested and completely in control.

"It's funny, though," he continued, still walking, "Dad found this old document in the town archives which says the upkeep of all public land in the city limits is the responsibility of the Mayor and his family. The way I see it, if the Mayor's in control of it, then that kind of makes it his land. Which means one day it'll be _my _land."

There was dead silence from those assembled as Jake stopped and looked around, turning his head this way and that to survey his surroundings.

"Nice location, isn't it," he remarked. "I think I'll ask my dad if I can knock all this down and build my own place here. He said he'd buy me a house for my next birthday."

"I'm sure my father would be interested in seeing this old document you said you found," said Ellie, very loudly and deliberately. "Very interested. Tell me, is the ink dry yet? Or are you going to give it another day and put a few more creases in the paper before you show it off in public?"

Jake just smirked.

"Think it's a fake, Johnson? Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but your dad won't find anything wrong with my dad's case. The evidence is all on our side. And speaking of taking sides - " he nodded in Jack's general direction - "I think it's about time we got started. Herb, tell him the rules."

Herb looked straight at Jack, daring him to lower his eyes or look away, then he cleared his throat and announced:

"All right, pretty-boy, here are the rules. You have three minutes to complete the course. It runs clockwise from here and you have to make three full laps of the site. You're racing Jake and the winner is the first to cross the finish line."

Jack followed Herb's pointing finger to a line that someone had chalked on the ground.

"In between," Herb continued, still glowering at him, "you clear the obstacles in your path and do tricks off as many things as possible. The minimum is five tricks per lap. Anything less than that, you lose. If you don't complete the course in time, you lose. If you screw up a trick and fall, Jake wins by default and you officially suck. Got that? You bail, you fail."

Jack nodded. He was cold and numb with nerves, and his heart seemed to have sunk to somewhere around his lower abdomen, but there was no pulling out of this. Part of him reminded him once again that he really shouldn't be scared, because he'd fought off the living dead and lived to tell the tale, but that had been different. Back then he'd always been able to come up with a plan, however desperate and unlikely the odds of success - and if things went badly wrong, then running away had always been a useful last resort. This time he was at a loss for a strategy, and fleeing from his opponent wasn't an option.

"Jake, same goes for you," Herb told Jake, who shrugged nonchalantly. It was clear from his attitude that the other boy had done this often enough to know the score, and that made things worse. How many times had he done this? How much skating experience did he have, behind the show of confidence? More importantly, what if he really was as good as he said he was?

"All right, take your places," ordered Herb, pointing to the chalk line. "You start when Russ gives the signal."

Jake sauntered over to the line and dropped his skateboard onto it. Jack noticed, as he did the same, that Jake's skateboard was in much better condition than his. There were a few scuff marks, which indicated that it had at least been used, but it was nowhere near as battered and battle-scarred as Jack's, which had been inexpertly repaired more times than he could count.

"You must be a lousy skater to get your board in that condition," said Jake, when he saw it.

"That be what a board look like when you actually _use _it more than once a year," countered Jack. "How long you been skatin'?"

"Since I was twelve," Jake replied. "You?"

"Ain't sure exactly," said Jack. "Eight, nine maybe. Longer'n you."

Jake gave a little snort of amusement.

"We'll see soon enough if you have."

"On the count of three!" Russell called out, picking up a fallen tree branch from the ground. "One!"

Jack and Jake stepped up onto their skateboards and lined up, both staring fiercely ahead at the rest of the course.

"Last chance to quit, new kid," said Jake, out of the corner of his mouth. "Why don't you give in now and make it easy on yourself?"

"Screw you," was Jack's reply. "If you be too scared to skate, _you _back out. I ain't gonna forfeit."

Jake shrugged.

"Your funeral."

"Two!"

Jack's eyes darted to Russell, looking for the signal. The boy had raised the branch high above his head, like a starting flag, ready to bring it down. Jake, too, was waiting, eyeing the branch intently.

"Three!"

Russell lowered the branch and Jake took off, bearing left towards the half-built shell of the hotel's lower floor. Not to be outdone, Jack immediately sped after him. Jake was taller than he was, and thicker-set; he'd have momentum on his side later, once he'd picked up speed, but it wouldn't be hard to catch him up at this stage in the proceedings.

Jake leapt through one of the empty windows and disappeared inside the building. Jack followed him, feeling the wild light-headedness of terror evaporating as he got into his stride. There was nothing to be afraid of now. Plan or no plan, he could do this, because skating was what he did best. All he had to do was let instinct take over and show that big-headed _pendejo_ what he was made of…

The flash of greenery outside disappeared and suddenly his world was full of concrete walls and scaffolding, blurring slightly with movement. He smiled a little as he ducked underneath a low-hanging pole. He'd skated indoors before, at an empty warehouse the Skate Rats regularly snuck into on weekends and after school. It had been full of stuff like this, all pipes and railings and concrete ramps… nothing he wasn't used to.

He couldn't hear the crowd outside, but he wasn't really paying attention to them any more. Jake was just ahead, getting ready to exit after his brief foray indoors. This was the perfect opportunity to come out of the building ahead of him and take the lead.

Jack changed course, leaning slightly to the left and crouching down low to keep his balance, then he pushed down on the tail end of his board and hopped up and out through the window-frame. He'd wondered whether or not to risk it, but the flicker of worry disappeared straight away when he realised that he'd pulled off the trick without a hitch. That was good. The ollie was the first trick he'd ever learned - the most basic weapon in his armoury - and screwing it up when it really counted would have been a source of infinite shame.

Jake emerged from the building a fraction of a second after him, skimming the window-ledge on the way out. He drew level with Jack, grinning, but Jack pulled ahead. He couldn't let that guy get within arm's reach of him. All his opponent would have to do would be to give him a sharp push and throw him off balance, and that would be the end of the race. He didn't put it past Jake not to cheat somehow. What was it that Ellie had said about nobody ever beating Jake Maddigan?

He abandoned the thought before it could take root. No time to worry about that now. There were obstacles up ahead, and he'd either have to avoid them or use them to his advantage.

A low wall, some girders, forgotten and half-hidden in the grass at the edge of the site, and a concrete pipe littered the ground before him, each inviting him to make good use of them. Though this hazardous playground wasn't of his own choosing, and broken bones were the least of the risks he faced if anything went wrong, that didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun while he was here. Pipes and walls had provided him with some sweet tricks in the past, so why not make use of them now, when he needed all the help he could get to show off his skills?

Jake had already gone for a set of home-made plywood ramps. Ramps were always a crowd-pleaser. You could jump gaps, score a nice air trick or grind along the top edge, amongst other things, and this versatility made them invaluable in skating contests. He passed Jake, so quickly that he couldn't see what the boy was doing behind his back, but there was a little ripple of applause from the nearest section of the crowd. Something mildly impressive, no doubt.

_I can do better than that…_

Jack opted for the low wall, making a smooth leap to his left and landing atop the edge without breaking the flow of his movement or losing speed. It was a dry surface, coarse but fairly even, with plenty of grip but not too much friction. Perfect conditions for fuss-free grinding. It must have looked good, because murmurs of excitement rose up from the crowd around the course.

The last brick on the wall wobbled as Jack leapt off and onto a nearby set of rails, sliding his board straight down the middle with his arms out for balance; he hadn't realised it was that unstable. Thank God it had held long enough for the grind, he thought, flipping his board under his feet and then landing back on the smoother ground underfoot.

Some more applause, louder this time, from the younger members of the crowd. The older onlookers didn't seem quite as easily impressed, but that was okay. Winning the race without failing or falling came first. Showing off to the crowd was something he could do later, once he'd shamed Jake into admitting that he, Jack, was the better skater in front of a significant number of Arklay High students.

_Concentrate, dude, you ain't won this yet…_

He looked round to see what Jake was doing, and saw him grinding backwards along a concrete pipe. It wasn't bad, he had to admit. Not bad at all. He'd done that once after seeing Mitch and Raphael do the same and trying to copy them; his first few attempts had seen him fall flat on his back, and it had taken him several more goes before he'd successfully landed the trick.

Jack bore left again, jumped up to let the underside of his board briefly kiss the nearby wall, and headed for the next pair of ramps. He could see a gap of several feet between them. Just what he needed for a nice air trick, he thought, narrowing his eyes and concentrating on the approach.

He hurtled up the ramp and leapt, grabbing the front end of his board and then twisting his whole body round in mid-air. He'd scored a 540-degree version of this trick once, but he'd come within two grazed knees and a torn pair of jeans of not landing it at all and he couldn't risk that now, impressive though it had been back on the streets of downtown. A 180 would do just fine. He got ready to land and felt himself drop down again.

He heard a whoop from someone in the crowd as he cleared the gap and came down the other ramp facing in the opposite direction. The sound made him grin. This was going much better than he'd thought. Jake was slightly ahead of him again, leaping with surprising grace over a dip in the ground, which was filled with stagnant water; Jack had to hand it to the guy, he was a fairly competent skater, but he wasn't about to let a fairly competent skater beat him at his own game.

Jack pulled forward again, passing Jake and the stagnant puddle. On the west side of the building was a broad concrete access ramp, sloping gently back down towards the north side of the site. Some railings had been set into the concrete, and though they were higher off the ground than he would have preferred, it wasn't a leap he couldn't manage. If he pulled this off, he'd be almost one full lap into the race and a third of the way to winning.

Jack jumped up onto the railings, balancing his board carefully between the two sets of rails and sliding down them sideways. He heard some ragged cheers filtering through his concentration, but he tried to block them out. It wasn't that he didn't want to hear them - on the contrary, pleasing the crowd helped his confidence no end - but he couldn't afford any distractions at this point in the race.

Hitting the midway point, he jumped, transferring his board to the left set of railings mid-manoeuvre and skidding straight down in a fifty-fifty grind. It was faster than he wanted to move, but though the next leap from rail to ground sent a jolt through his body that made his bones shudder, he kept on going.

_Got my five tricks,_ he thought, trying to hasten his progress round to the front of the building and the initial starting point, so he could cross the line and start his second lap. Jake was just behind him; he hadn't seen much in the way of tricks from his opponent, having been either unable to look back or too wrapped up in pulling off his own stunts to pay attention to what Jake was doing. It was almost a shame. Almost.

Lisa was watching from the sidelines, crossing her fingers tightly and hardly daring to breathe for fear of distracting him.

"Pretty good," Ellie remarked. "Fair play to Jack, he's not a bad skater at all. He's much faster than I thought he'd be."

"I told you he was good," said Lisa proudly.

"Oh, I never doubted that for a moment," said Ellie. "Thing is, is he quick enough to outsmart Jake?"

Jack raced around the last corner of the building and crossed the line. He heard a yell of outrage somewhere behind him, but didn't dare look over his shoulder at Jake now. In spite of the nervousness that was making his stomach twist, he was starting to enjoy himself. The thrill of competition was something he'd been missing of late, and this was a rare chance to shine again, to prove to all these sceptical people that he was more than an outsider with a past he wanted to hide.

Jake was starting to catch up with him; Jack could see him out of the corner of his eye. The other boy seemed infuriated by the fact that Jack was not only still in the competition but in the lead, too, and the minute they drew level again, Jake called out:

"So you think you're a skater, you whiny little bitch?"

"Better skater'n you, asshole," Jack replied, leaping over an empty planter and clearing it with ease, altering his stance only slightly on the way down to avoid overbalancing.

Jake veered away for a moment to score a grind trick off an old, rusting girder, then yelled back:

"What'd you call me, you little punk?"

"Wow, deaf _an' _stupid?" Jack taunted. The near-certainty that he'd get beaten up for this later was starting to make itself felt, but that was something he could worry about afterwards, once the adrenaline rush had dissipated. Right now, drunk on exhilaration, he felt powerful enough to take on the whole world. "Tough break, Maddigan!"

"I'm gonna kick your ass, Carpenter!" Jake bellowed, as he avoided a water-filled dip in the concrete and swerved round, ready to chase Jack again.

Jack just grinned.

"Gotta catch me first!"

He tore away, loose gravel skittering away across the ground. There was a roar of anger from behind him, and when Jack looked back over his shoulder, he saw Jake pawing the ground with one foot to speed the progress of his board along the tarmac. It made him look just like an angry bull, and Jack couldn't help laughing out loud, because he sounded like one, too.

His laughter seemed to incense the other boy still further. Jack wanted to laugh even more at this, but he reminded himself that angry, charging bulls were dangerous creatures. If Jake was that mad, he'd have to make sure he kept well out of his way - preferably far enough ahead to be well beyond his rival's reach.

He turned his head round to look at the course ahead. As he did, he saw Jake stoop down towards the ground as he rounded the corner of the building. He thought nothing of it until he heard something whistle past his ear and saw something explode on the ground ahead in a shower of glittering green shards.

There were a few horrified gasps from the section of crowd closest to them, and it wasn't until he heard a staccato burst of conversation from three girls he'd just passed that he realised what had happened.

"… my God, did you see that?"

"Was that a _beer bottle_?"

"I can't believe he just did that…"

Jake had thrown a bottle at him. What was more, he'd narrowly missed hitting him right in the head. This was proving to be a more dangerous game than he'd suspected. Sick with adrenaline and fright, Jack looked back at his opponent, who had just grabbed something else from the ground. It looked like a rock, or a piece of broken brick or tile; whatever it was, it looked heavy enough to cause injury with an accurate hit.

On an impulse, Jack ducked inside the hotel building again, skidding slightly on the trash-strewn floor as he leapt in through the empty window-frame. Being out in the open and clearly visible made him an easy target. Shelter would afford him some temporary protection and make him harder to see and hit.

"You want a real contest? Come out and fight, you cowardly little prick!" Jake yelled, jumping in after him and pelting the rock in his direction.

Jack swerved to dodge the missile, which bounced off into a corner, and looked around in terror for an escape route. Unfortunately, Jake was between him and the only window he could have used to get back onto the stretch of course he'd just left.

His eyes darted to a scaffolding ramp in the centre of the room. It led up to the unfinished next level of the building, presumably the spot where the hotel's main staircase was to have been installed.

_Bad idea, bad idea_, warned his mind. _How you gonna get down from there?_

The thought came too late. Before he knew what he was doing, he was heading up the ramp at full speed, with Jake in close pursuit.

Outside in the crowd, Lisa was shaking with fright.

"Nobody said _anything _about throwing bottles!" she said.

"Jake's a stinking cheat," said Ellie. Her hands had started to tremble too, though Lisa couldn't tell whether this was from anger or from fear, or even both at once. "I've seen a couple of these contests and the newcomer _never _comes out on top. He always twists the rules, or plays dirty somehow. Does everything he can to make the other competitor screw up their run and lose. Throwing bottles, though, that's stooping pretty low, even for him. He's never gone that far before."

She flicked open a packet of cigarettes and lit one up, rather unsteadily.

"Ellie, please don't do that," said Lisa.

"Sorry. Have to. I'm nervous."

"_You're_ nervous?"

Several feet above them, Jack emerged onto the second storey of the building, with the wind flying through his hair. The fresh air and sunlight felt good after the cold dankness of the lower floor, but this couldn't really distract him from the fact that he was circling the top floor of an unfinished building, which consisted almost entirely of rickety scaffolding, with a rival behind him who was determined to see him fall.

He stopped, just short of the edge of the building. The scaffolding poles which served as a makeshift barrier had fallen away here, and lay rusting on the ground below. There was nothing between him and a long drop if he went any further forward.

"You must be crazy, coming up here," said Jake, with a sneer. "How the hell did you think you were going to get down?"

Jack looked down over the edge of the scaffold, at the ground that seemed too far down and the shocked, upturned faces of the crowd watching him from below. He could practically hear their bated breath over the rush of wind and trees, and the pounding of his own heart in his ears.

"Too far to jump, Carpenter," Jake observed.

He broke into a smirk.

"I think you might have to call it quits."

Jack narrowed his eyes, temporarily forgetting his fear. There was no way he was going to let it end here, with the school bully thinking he was smarter, braver and better at skating than he was. Not when there was still a way out, and a point to prove on the way down.

"I dunt think so," he said, and jumped over the edge.

There were screams from the crowd and an angry yell from the rooftop behind as Jack felt the world falling past him, but it was too late for second thoughts now. Twisting his body round in the air and trying desperately to hang onto his board, he angled himself to prepare for the impact. Perhaps if he was lucky, the fall wouldn't break his legs and leave him in a crumpled heap that Jake could point and gloat at…

_You stupid idiot! What you do that for? _screamed his brain. _You gonna break you damn neck right in front of Lise an' everybody else, you stupid - oh no, here come the ground, you gonna get killed -_

He slammed into the ground on all fours, still clutching his board for dear life and feeling it connect with the concrete a split-second before he did. The force of the landing shook him so hard that for a moment, his mind went numb, but then he blinked and realised he was crouched down on his skateboard, still rolling forward, miraculously unharmed.

He stood up, utterly shocked, and then found himself starting to laugh.

"Too far to jump, huh?" he shouted up at the figure on the roof. "You better find a quick way down, Jake, or you gonna be the one left standin'! See you at the finish line!"

Cheers and laughter started to rise up from the crowd, and there, at last, were the first smatterings of real approval, spreading through the mass of high school students along with the applause. Jack flashed a grin up at his speechless opponent and sped off in search of his next trick.

"It's okay, Lisa," said Ellie, taking hold of Lisa's arm and making her uncover her eyes again. "He's all right. Made it down safely, God knows how. I mean, I've heard of a leap of faith before, but that's ridiculous…"

Lisa took her hands away from her eyes, then breathed out when she saw that Jack was unhurt.

"I thought he was a goner," she said quietly. "I really did. I wish he wouldn't do stuff like this, Ellie… he's good, I know he is, but one day he's going to really hurt himself."

"It isn't the safest of pastimes, I have to agree," Ellie conceded. "The first time I stepped on a skateboard, I fell off and broke my ankle. Embarrassing. Still, I'm sure he knows what he's doing."

Jack was midway through a nosegrind along the edge of a stack of metal pipes, balancing carefully on the front axle of his board, when Jake finally emerged from the lower floor of the hotel. There were a couple of raucous jeers and boos from the crowd as he appeared; he'd apparently been too scared to follow Jack's lead, and had made his way back down the ramp instead.

Jack leapt off the edge of the pile as it started to shift beneath his weight, saw Jake glaring murderously across the site at him, and decided it wouldn't be a good idea to goad his enemy any further. One more humiliation might earn him worse than a few rocks thrown in his general direction. Instead, he avoided making eye contact and set his sights on the next obstacle in his path.

It was the pair of ramps he'd jumped over before; he changed his mind and changed course correspondingly, heading towards a large, oval concrete basin that might have been an unfinished swimming pool, or an ornamental lake of some kind. He wasn't sure how many tricks he dared repeat in the little time that remained. Did repeated tricks count, or did each one have to be different?

The basin would be a good place to rack up some new moves, although air tricks weren't exactly his speciality. Like most of the other Street Rats, he'd worked best as a street skater, leaping gaps, grinding rails and curbs, and throwing a couple of ollies and other flip tricks in wherever he could to keep things fresh. Vert had never really been his style, not least because opportunities to do so on the streets of his neighbourhood had not only been few and far between, but difficult and sometimes quite dangerous. On the other hand, he'd just jumped off the second floor of a building without coming to harm. Perhaps today was his day to shine at whatever he dared attempt.

Jack could hear the clattering of Jake's skateboard on the asphalt, some way back. That gave him a couple more seconds to increase his lead. He sped up a little more on his approach to the basin, felt the breeze and the crowd noise rushing past him, then he crouched down and jumped up, right over the edge and into the empty pool.

It was a gentle roll down the slope, but he'd gathered speed. He raced across the bottom to the opposite side and the slope up shot him back into the air again. The height he'd gained from this wasn't high enough for tricks yet, so he let himself fall backwards into the basin and roll back the other way, lining himself up for another attempt.

This time he gained a little more air, but it still wasn't enough. He needed more speed, more height, more momentum. He allowed himself to roll back and forth a few more times, building up a little more speed and altitude each time, until he felt himself leave the ground completely and soar up into the air.

The pull downwards was barely there at all; for now there was only one direction, and that was up. Normally he would have closed his eyes and appreciated the bliss of near-weightlessness, because those few fleeting seconds before gravity kicked back in could never last long enough, but this was no time for playing around. Time to make his move.

He grabbed the back of his board with both hands, still feeling himself soar towards the blue-pink and orange clouds and the shimmering dawn sky, and hung on to it tightly. When the balance tipped and he felt himself falling again, he let go, swooping back down and straight into the curve the instant he touched the ground.

More cheers. Yes! This was more like it! Trick over, he thought, but there would be no stopping dead at the speed he was travelling. He had to get out of this groove somehow or risk rolling back and forth forever.

He veered deliberately off course, towards the other end of the pool. On his way up the slope, he grabbed the edge of the pool and pushed his body up into the air, legs first, eventually coming to rest in a one-armed handstand. Balanced precariously on the pool's edge, with his board resting on the soles of his feet, he tried not to think about what would happen if he lost his balance.

_Handplant…_

He'd only ever done a handplant once before, mostly by accident and very poorly at that; he'd sprained the muscles in his forearm so badly that for two weeks even the smallest movement had been unbearable.

This time he'd pulled it off. He could hear the cheers from the crowd growing and rising in volume until they became roars of approval. It was a difficult trick - one that he'd seen several people attempt, only to leave the skate-park nursing a sprained arm or wrist, or covered in bruises after overbalancing and falling - and he'd done it with enough aplomb to delight a crowd of sceptics and naysayers who were normally loyal or in thrall to his rival.

That felt good. Damn good.

Of course, he still had to finish the trick. His board was still balanced on his upturned feet, and a wrong move at the wrong moment could leave him stranded, humiliated and forced to go and retrieve his board from several feet away. With a second's hesitation, he flipped the board over and onto the ground next to him. He leaned over and, arching his body in the right direction, let his legs drop until his feet found the board and planted themselves firmly atop it. He came out of the handstand, straightened up, and grinned.

Perfect.

He gave the exultant crowd a thumbs-up, then saw Jake approaching him at speed. The other boy didn't look at all happy. With more urgency than he'd first intended, Jack zoomed off, not wanting to be anywhere nearby when Jake eventually caught up again.

Leaving his adversary to catch up on the requisite five tricks per lap, Jack made a long sweep around the building to complete the circuit, and crossed the line at speed.

One lap left now… and about forty-five seconds at his disposal. Forty-five seconds in which to win or lose, and every single one had to count.

"No pressure," he muttered to himself, and carried on. He was already thinking ahead of himself, scanning the course for the next opportunity to make his mark on the contest.

Behind him, Jake stared furiously ahead. He'd always been the best skater in town - that fact was undisputed - and now this cocky little upstart was making a fool of him in front of everybody! Well, he'd soon put paid to that. He'd show everyone who was the best and send that scrawny brat running for home. After all, he still had some tricks up his sleeve…

Lisa's eyes flicked from Jack to the crowd, who were leaning forward, pushing and jostling each other for a better view, and then she turned her gaze towards Jake. Now that he could see that he had real competition, he was pulling out all the stops instead of hanging back a little and expecting to win. The tricks were coming thick and fast, and they were riskier than the moves he'd used before. Dip, glide, roll, slide, flip, spin, grind; they were careful, well-rehearsed movements, but while they didn't have Jack's casual grace and fleetness of foot, Jake was remarkably light on his feet, and Jack's efforts seemed to be making him even more determined to win.

This effort to impress wasn't lost on the crowd, and several onlookers started clapping and whooping appreciatively. However, Jack was in the lead, and although Lisa was still watching with trepidation and bated breath, she was finding it hard not to smile. She wanted him to win this. Not just to get himself out of the fix he'd talked himself into, but because he deserved it. Jake's best efforts weren't even coming close to eclipsing Jack's, and she wanted everybody to see the best skater win.

"Jack's holding up well," Ellie commented. "Jake's going to have to pull off something pretty spectacular to top that."

The crowd seemed gripped by the pitched battle between the newcomer and the reigning champion. Some were switching their support back and forth between the two competitors, their loyalties hopelessly torn with each new trick; a few more were taunting Jack from the sidelines, clearly hoping to see the new kid punished for having the temerity to take on the leader of the pack. Most, however, seemed genuinely pleased to see Jack doing well and, better still, embarrassing Jake in the process. A lot of things, it seemed, could change in the space of three minutes.

"Come on, Jack," Lisa said aloud. "You can do it…"

Back on the course, Jack could feel himself tensing up. It was getting close now. Less than a minute remained until the end of the race, and while Jake's new tricks were undoubtedly impressive, the audience weren't necessarily on his side any more.

A variation on an ollie, mid-air, propelled him across a gap between ramps. All he could hear now was the pounding of blood through his veins and the roar of the crowd, at once immediate and distant.

He looked back. Jake was still lagging behind, trying to catch up, but unless the other boy did something incredible to flip the balance of probabilities, he was in with a real chance of winning this contest and trumping his rival. He could win this. All he had to do was keep this up, and he could win…

He leaned to one side, shifting his weight to turn a corner, and swept round the building in a long, smooth curve towards the concrete basin. He lessened his speed a little as he neared the basin, to avoid toppling straight in, but he waited until he came perilously close to doing so, then stopped, just short of the edge, to perform a quick balancing trick on the rim of the pool. With this neatly accomplished, he hopped away from the concrete lip and rushed straight back onto the course, heading into the fray once again.

He passed Jake on the way, brushing past him so closely that the other boy stumbled, briefly, and then hollered after Jack:

"Think you're smart, huh? Well, you haven't won yet! I'll win this race and I'll beat your sorry ass doing it!"

"That a threat or a promise?" Jack shouted over his shoulder.

"You'll see!"

This response prompted some mocking laughter from one or two people in the crowd, but the rest fell unaccountably silent. That was worrying, thought Jack, suddenly disconcerted. What did the silence signify? With any luck, nothing but being rattled by an empty threat, but he hoped he never got the chance to be proven wrong.

There was a harsh noise beneath his board. He'd been mulling so deeply over this that he'd lost his concentration and strayed onto a patch of loose gravel. He veered back onto more solid ground, and realised he needed to show off a little more. He was low on tricks for this round and he was halfway into his last lap already. How embarrassing it would be to make it to the end, only to have Jake win by default because of failing to meet one of the conditions of the race.

He needed an idea, quickly. What to do? An old favourite perhaps, one he could rely on, something like - yeah, that would work. It was a suitably quick-and-dirty trick to pull, and one that he could do on the move to avoid slackening his pace.

Opting for his old friend Roland's trick of choice, he rushed up the access ramp and onto the closest rail for a grind. Halfway through, he took his front foot off the board, then hit the tail, turned the board through 180 degrees, and stepped straight back on, to another loud burst of cheering.

"What was that?" said Ellie, raising her eyebrows in surprise. "That was clever."

"Shove-it no comply," Lisa answered. "I've seen him do that before."

That brought back memories. The last time she'd seen him do that, he'd been demonstrating tricks in her front yard. After a couple of ollies and kickflips, he'd performed a perfect shove-it no comply, up onto the wall, followed by a front-foot impossible… and a spectacular face-plant straight into her mother's prize-winning tulips, to her mother's shrieking dismay.

She held her breath as she watched Jack leap from one rail to the other, reversing his stance each time from his usual to the one he referred to as "goofy". Risky, she thought, watching. Looked good, but if he fell now, so close to the end of the race -

Jack jumped off the rails. He landed awkwardly and winced, but didn't stop. There were only a handful of seconds left on the clock, fifteen or twenty at the very most. He couldn't stop, not now. Not when he was so close!

One last trick, and that was it, he'd go for the finish. He threw a look back over his shoulder - Jake was still behind - and decided what he was going to do.

There was another, larger dip in the ground towards the front façade of the building, which might have been intended for use as a lily-pond. It was overgrown and full of waterlogged leaves, but he didn't care much about its decorative merits. The only thing he wanted to look good was his final trick.

He breathed in as deeply as he could on the approach, then he kicked down on the board's tail to initiate a kickflip as he jumped up and over the pond, catching the spinning board neatly in mid-air. He dropped down just low enough for the underside of the deck to kiss the surface of the water, but kept himself airborne by leaping up again until he cleared the pond.

The crowd loved it; now they were screaming and shouting encouragement as he neared the finish line, and with seconds left, he had nothing to do but roll onwards to triumph, leaving Jake devastated in his wake. The instant he touched that line, victory would be his.

Ellie's cigarette almost fell from her open mouth.

"Holy crap, he's actually going to _win_," she said, astounded. "Jake's never let anyone get this far ahead before! Look, he's _miles _behind!"

Lisa looked and saw Jake, trailing several yards behind. Ellie might not have been right about the measure of distance, but one thing was patently obvious - Jake wouldn't be able to catch up now.

"Yes!" she cried out, overjoyed by the sight. "Come on, Jack, you're almost there! Keep going! You can do it!"

Red-faced with fury, Jake could see Jack approaching the finish line. There was nothing he could do about it. The few paltry seconds left wouldn't be enough to catch up, no matter how fast he went. He'd lost too much time trying to get down from the higher reaches of the building when he'd followed that stupid little punk upstairs, hoping to make him face facts and admit defeat. Now he was losing! He'd _never _lost this race…

And he wasn't going to, either. He hadn't come all this way to relinquish his title as Arklay's best skater. Losing to someone else in town would be bad enough, but to have some cocky little interloper stroll in from nowhere and steal all his prestige, just like that - no, he was damned if he was going to come second to an outsider.

"Herb! Russ!" he shouted to the two boys standing near the chalk line. "Get me some applause over there!"

The applause was all for Jack now, as he raced along the home stretch. Lisa and Ellie were shrieking and bouncing up and down with delight, hugging each other, their gleeful cries almost completely lost in the cheering around them.

Unseen by the rest of the crowd, who were too busy keeping their eyes on Jack and the rapidly-closing gap between him and the finish line, Russell handed the branch over to Herb and shot his companion a meaningful look. Herb seemed to understand.

Lisa chanced to look up and across at the finish line, and let out a gasp. She should have known things had been going too well. How could she ever have believed that the school bullies would play fair?

"Jack!" she cried out, breaking free of Ellie's exultant hug. "Look out!"

For the past five seconds, Jack had been oblivious to everything except cheers and impending success. Lisa's warning snapped him back into full alertness as he saw what was coming up ahead, but it was already too late to dodge as Herb hurled the branch straight into Jack's path.

"Eat dirt, new kid!"

The twigs and leaves tangled themselves in the wheels of the skateboard and forcing it to stop dead with a horrible crunch. Jack stumbled as the stop threw him forward, and then the whole world came rushing forward and up to meet him.

There were groans of dismay as he hit the ground and rolled, landing face-first some feet ahead of the finish line. Shock cushioned the scrapes and bruises for a second or two, then the pain broke through the daze and hit him. He tried, groggily, to get to his feet, but the fall had knocked the breath out of him. He gave up again and slumped back down.

"_Jack Carpenter bailed before crossing the finish line! Jake Maddigan wins!"_

He'd lost. He could sense the disappointment from the crowd, who were now whispering quietly amongst themselves. He felt like he'd failed them; they'd been depending on him to win and teach Jake a well-deserved lesson, and he'd let them down by letting that last, unexpected obstacle bring him crashing to the ground.

Shadows fell across his field of vision, blocking the glare of new sunlight.

"Didn't see that one coming," snickered one of them.

"You bail, you _fail_…" another added, with ill-disguised glee.

They disappeared, to be replaced with a larger shadow.

"You lose, Carpenter," said a calm voice from above him. "What a pity. You were doing so well."

This was followed with a savage kick in the ribs, and then a foot flipped him over. He saw a flash of trees, a canopy of heavenly sky rolling across his vision, and then, as he slammed onto his back, the faces crowding in around him.

Jake, Herb and Russell. His tormentors, with their mocking smiles, grinning down at his failure because they'd known, all along, that he'd had no chance. Like he should have done. If only he'd been thinking straight, he never would have found himself here…

There was a scream from beyond his circle of vision and then Lisa appeared, howling vengeance. He saw Ellie grab her by the arm and try to tug her away, but Lisa broke free and hurled herself straight at Jake.

"You cheating bastard!" she yelled, trying to wrench his raised arms away from his face so she could hit him. "Ellie was right! She knew you wouldn't play fair and let Jack beat you!"

Jake fielded her attack without difficulty, however, and swatted the girl away as though she were nothing more than a troublesome wasp.

"Hey, he lost and I won," he said, as she glared at him. "It's not like he's invincible. Everybody loses from time to time. Get over it."

"He only lost because you _made _him lose!" Lisa snarled, and lashed out again, more viciously again this time, hitting out at every undefended spot she could find. "He would have won if your _boyfriends_ hadn't helped you out! What's the matter, Jake, are you afraid of a real challenge? You're nothing but a cheat and a coward!"

Taken more aback this time, Jake struggled for a moment to shake her off, but then he scowled and brought his hand around with a slap that echoed around the building site. Lisa stumbled backwards and landed on her side, then looked up at him with furious, stinging eyes.

"Damn you!"

"Shut your mouth, city brat," Herb ordered, raising an arm in warning as she tried to get up again. "You've caused enough trouble already without stepping into any more. It's about time you wised up and learned your place around here."

"Yeah, in the dirt," sniggered Russell.

Lisa looked up at Ellie, whose mouth was open in outrage. The girl seemed at first to be frozen to the spot, but through streaming eyes, Lisa saw that Connor was holding her back. His arms were wrapped right around Ellie's waist and shoulders, ostensibly to restrain her, although there was something protective about the movement that might have made her smile in other circumstances.

Right now, though, her main concern was Jack and the trouble he was in. Herb was still watching her closely, with an odd expression on his face; if she tried to get up then she risked getting slapped down again, harder this time, and getting Jack into even deeper trouble as a result. Rather than risk worsening the situation, she stayed still, feigning compliance, while she tried to work out her next move.

"You know what your problem is, Carpenter?" said Jake, turning away from her and looking down at his defeated opponent with something like distaste in his eyes. "You just aren't _man _enough to beat me. If you were, then you'd keep your girlfriend under control instead of letting her fight your battles for you. Just accept it, okay? You lost. You fell at the last hurdle and you _lost_. Suck it up and take it like a man."

He kicked Jack in the side again, just below the ribs. Too dazed to scream in spite of the pain, Jack could only look up at the faces above him. He wished his aunt was here. Aunt Rosa had always been unafraid of bullies, and had had no qualms about showing her disapproval of bad behaviour. She would have sent someone like Jake running home crying for his mother - especially if she'd seen him hit Lisa. She'd always said that a man stopped being a man the minute he raised his hand to a woman, and she wouldn't have let something like that go unpunished, not when she'd always fought so hard against the world's many unfairnesses.

"Auntie," he felt himself mumble.

"And just so you know, Carpenter," warned Jake, apparently not noticing, "if that _bitch _of yours ever tries to hit me again, I'll beat the crap out of both of you. Got that?"

"It's all right, Jake, I think he learned his lesson," said Herb, with a smirk. "Come on, man, let's go. We'll be late for class if we hang around this dump any longer."

They left the construction site, and the crowd started to trickle away after them, first by ones and twos and then in small groups. Some gave Jack and Lisa pitying glances; some looked at them with faint contempt, even disgust; others with disappointment, as though they'd been hoping for so much more from them than failure.

"Bad luck, comrade," said Will sympathetically, as he passed them. "I admire your courage but I think the forces of oppression are too strong to be overcome by revolutionary action. Perhaps next time fortune will favour your efforts."

"Sucks to be you, dude," was Marshall's less profound commiseration. "Still, props for trying. You almost made it. If Maddigan wasn't such a cheating douchebag you could have handed his ass to him on a plate. Man, the look on his face if you had… that would have been _brutal_."

Other than these, there were no expressions of sympathy as the onlookers drifted past them. There were plenty of whispered comments, and one or two spiteful remarks from Karen and her hangers-on, but there were no kind words or hands to help them up from the ground.

And then only Connor and Ellie remained. Ellie was still frozen in horror, locked in Connor's gentle but insistent grip, but after a moment or two she cried out and started to struggle again.

"Those absolute bastards! Those bloody - scoundrel - _bastards_! Connor, you let go of me this instant!"

Connor unlocked his arms obediently. Ellie immediately burst from his grip and ran over to Lisa, who had crawled over to Jack's side and was trying to pick him up off the ground.

"Lisa!"

She grabbed Lisa's hand and helped the shaking girl to her feet.

"Are you all right? You're not hurt, are you? I can't believe he hit you. Even by his standards, that's low…"

"He's a coward," said Lisa, wiping her eyes, and she bent over Jack again. "Just a filthy coward. Jack, are you okay?"

Jack looked up at her and tried to smile through the crust of blood on his upper lip. Aunt Rosa was gone, but at least he had Lisa willing to help him fight his corner. Aunt Rosa had only met Lisa a couple of times and they'd exchanged very few words, if only because what little English Aunt Rosa knew had been picked up from the TV, but had she been here now to see this, she would surely have approved of her bravery… well, after berating her nephew for his stupidity in getting himself hurt in a ridiculous contest.

But then his smile disappeared. This was his fault. He should have been defending Lisa, not the other way round. He'd let the whole school watch his rival hit her while he lay helplessly in the dirt. He'd let the bravest girl in the world suffer indignity and abject humiliation in front of everyone, all because he'd been too proud. Too proud, and too stupid, to listen to her voice of reason.

"Lise… 'm sorry," he said wretchedly. "I shoulda listened to you. You be right 'bout the whole thing an' I got my ass kicked 'cause of it. An' he hurt you…"

He raised his hand to Lisa's reddened cheek.

"I'm fine," insisted Lisa. "He's just a cowardly bully, that's all. I'm not afraid of him. Maybe I'd be a bit more scared if he didn't hit like a girl."

"He may be a stinking, rotten cheat but that was a warning shot, Lisa," said Ellie. "If he'd wanted to hurt you, he could have. Take it from me, I've seen enough fights to know he can do a lot of harm when he wants to."

"He ain't gonna hurt you 'gain, Lise," said Jack fiercely, wiping the blood from his mouth and trying to sit up. "If he ever put a finger on you 'gain, _ever_ - "

He grimaced as pain shot through his bruised ribs, then started to cough. He clutched at his sides for a moment until the shock and the sudden nausea subsided, then breathed out again.

"Dammit," he muttered. "I gotta start bein' less stupid. You think after gettin' beat up so many times I would start learnin' to no shoot my mouth off an' get in trouble…"

Lisa helped him back up onto his feet and swung his arm around her shoulders, then put an arm around his waist to support him. It wasn't the first time she'd done this after Jack had come off worse in a fight with the uptown kids back at Raccoon City High, and if today was anything to go by, then this wouldn't be the last time either.

"Come on," she said gently. "Let's get you back to school."

"We have to?" said Jack, disappointed.

"I'd take you home, but then we'd only get in more trouble," said Lisa. "Besides, I think you ought to go to the nurse. Look at you, your nose is bleeding and you're all cut and bruised… oh, Jack, I wish you'd listen to me once in a while. I knew you'd end up getting hurt somehow. I had a bad feeling about this from the minute you told me."

"I tried to warn you," said Ellie, shaking her head sadly, as they walked away. "It's like I told you. Nobody ever beats Jake Maddigan. Ever."

She looked back again at the building site, and the rising sun, and Connor, who'd darted back to fetch Jack's board.

"Nobody ever wins," she said, under her breath.


	10. Anything But Ordinary

**10: Anything But Ordinary**

The walk to school that morning seemed much longer than usual, and more painful. Jack's initial dismay at losing the skate-off had been nothing compared to his reaction when Connor handed his skateboard back to him.

"_My board!"_

It was in a sorry condition, Lisa observed, as he turned it over. It had already been much-used and much-fixed, even once or twice with duct tape, but it looked as though Jack's inexpert repairs wouldn't be enough to save it this time. The metal axles on the underside were warped and the wheels seemed to be hanging too loosely, and at odd angles. Worse, there was a large crack running deeply along the length of the board.

"Let me see," said Ellie briskly, taking it from him. "Maybe it's not so - "

But her face fell as soon as she saw the extent of the damage, and she let out a groan.

"Bloody hellfire. What a mess. The truck's damaged, the bearings are completely shot… and I don't think anyone's going to be able to repair that deck. If you hadn't landed as hard as you did, you might have been able to tape it up again, but the split's gone too far up the grain for that now."

She shook her head sadly, from side to side, then gave it back to him.

"Overall, I would say that's quite comprehensively buggered," she said. "Sorry, Jack. I don't think you can even try to fix that. Best if you just throw it out and buy a new one."

Jack was looking down sadly at it, cradling it in his arms like a mortally wounded companion. In a way, Lisa thought, that was exactly what it was. His beloved skateboard had accompanied him through all kinds of trouble and now, at the end of its life, he didn't seem able to let go of his old friend. He looked almost about to cry.

"Maybe I could fix it," volunteered Connor, after an uncomfortable few moments. "My uncle owns the sports equipment store on Third Street. He usually has a couple of spare boards in the back with the returns and if it's broken stuff he can't sell, he lets me strip them for parts. I built one out of spares a few months ago for my little cousin."

Jack looked up, his eyes wide with hope.

"You really think you can help?"

"I can try," said Connor, taking it back from him. "No promises, though. It's in pretty bad shape. Even if it's possible, I'll have to replace almost everything."

"Please," Jack implored him. "My aunt give me that board. You dunt know how much that thing be worth to me, man. She ain't round no more an' I ain't got much left of her now, 'part from that."

Connor nodded.

"All right. I'll do my best."

That brought a little hope back to Jack's face, but not much. Lisa knew Ellie was right, and she suspected that Jack knew it too, although she could hardly blame him for not wanting to face his second defeat of the day. Besides, who was to say that Connor couldn't somehow manage to salvage something from the wreck that was Jack's skateboard?

They walked silently for a minute or two, with Connor just behind Jack and Lisa and Ellie slightly to their left, traipsing through the dead leaves in the gutter and kicking them up in thick, damp clumps which covered her boots.

Lisa looked round at the streets, which were almost empty even though it was supposedly the rush hour, and thought sadly of home. Raccoon City had been busy, prosperous and full of people who greeted each other like old friends. Her own neighbourhood, Winterton, had been a particularly nice part of the city, with tree-lined streets, chic shopping districts and elegant, well-tended Victorian homes.

Arklay was only a few miles away from the town where she'd grown up - from where it had been, she corrected herself - but sitting on its remote perch in the mountains, surrounded by gloomy forests and silent hills, it felt oddly cut off from the rest of the world. The fine old buildings all showed signs of neglect; occasionally she glimpsed a reminder of the resort's splendid heyday, but for the most part, it looked like the kind of backwater town that college kids went to in horror movies for spring break kicks, only to be chased away by deranged hillbillies or eaten by something horrible in the woods, while the locals muttered in the bar about their kind not being welcome there.

_Torch and pitchfork territory, in other words. Not quite the genteel glamour I was led to expect from an old ski resort._

She looked up as shadows fell across the street. The sky was clouding over again, with the damp promise of rain hanging thickly in the air.

"You know, I really hate this place," said Ellie, frowning up at the approaching weather front. "You get five minutes of sunshine up here and then it rains for ten days on the trot. I thought the weather was supposed to be _nice _in this state."

"Doesn't it remind you of home?" said Lisa. "You said it rains a lot in Britain."

"Not really. London has things you can do when it's raining. Grab an umbrella and hop on the Tube, and hey presto, endless opportunities for amusement. Here? It rains and people speak English. That's about the only comparison I can draw with home. And I'm not even sure about the English."

"Nobody's sure about the English around here," teased Lisa. "Not since 1775."

Ellie rolled her eyes.

"Oh, shut up. You know what I mean."

"Yeah, we know," Connor said, with a chuckle. "Sorry, Ellie. We shouldn't be mean. We know you do things differently back in England. American English isn't so bad, though. You might even get to like it after a while."

"Not bloody likely," said Ellie, although she smiled a bit. "Sorry, Connor, but no. This isn't where I belong. Home for me is good old London town, and that's that. I'm going back there as soon as I get the chance."

"Wish we could go too," said Jack glumly. "I dunt think I like it here much."

"Oh, it's not that bad," said Connor, patting him on the shoulder. "It's quiet here, and there's lots of nature and fun places to go hiking. Town's a little sleepy, not much to do, but the people here are nice once you get to know them better."

Lisa couldn't have disagreed more with this statement, but she hated to puncture Connor's gentle enthusiasm for his hometown.

Jack, however, said:

"You kiddin' me, right? Did you even look an' see what happen just now? Jake an' those _baboso_ friends of his just kick my ass in front of everyone in school, an' who step in to help? You, Ellie, an' Lise. No-one from the crowd. They dint mind standin' round an' lettin' Jake Maddigan beat the crap outta me. They sound like nice people to you?"

"I think they were just scared," said Connor. "Jake isn't a nice person and his dad's a powerful guy around here. They probably didn't want to interfere in case they got beaten up too."

"Oh, so they just be cowards?" said Jack. "Great. I feel a whole lot better now. Then how 'bout the people who kick me an' Lise out from a café just 'cause we come from Raccoon City?"

Connor hesitated, but then he said, with some care:

"Raccoon City scared a lot of people up here, Jack. They closed off the roads from the mountains for weeks while the attacks went on, to try and stop it from happening anywhere else. We had to stay in our homes most of the time and we didn't really know what was going on until afterwards. People are still kind of spooked, even though the attacks have stopped. I think they just over-reacted a little when they heard Raccoon City come up again."

"In fairness, Connor, they completely flipped and chucked me out as well for trying to speak up for Jack and Lisa," said Ellie. "I wouldn't call that over-reacting, I would call that going _mental_. They even accused them of being infectious, for crying out loud! Don't tell me that's rational behaviour!"

"People aren't rational when they're scared," said Connor reasonably. "I remember my dad saying that once."

"You're right there," said Ellie. "You should have seen them, though. I've never seen people that hostile before. I was so angry at the time, I didn't really notice, but it was a bit scary, now that I think back on it. For a minute I thought they were going to carry us off to the town square and burn us at the stake."

"I still be mad 'bout it," said Jack, scowling. "But I dunt wanna give up just 'cause Jake be tryin' to make my life bad. I lost the skate contest but I bet there be some other way I can show people I be worth somethin'. I dunt wanna let him win an' leave it lie."

"Well, the school basketball team tryouts are this afternoon," Connor suggested. "You any good at basketball, Jack? Perhaps you could try out and get on the basketball team. I bet that would show him he can't cheat at everything."

Jack's eyes gleamed. After skating, basketball was his favourite sport. He'd played it with his fellow Street Rats after school most days, and he'd become pretty good at shooting hoops.

"Perhaps I could be the one who kick Jake's ass this time around," he said, and grinned. "Yeah. This time, I gonna show him what I be made of."

xxxxxxxxxx

The rest of the way was spent plotting revenge on Jake and his henchmen. After the beating Jack had taken, Lisa was surprised that he wanted to do anything, but the prospect of getting his own back seemed to have breathed some life back into him.

She hadn't been sure what Ellie would say at first. Common sense and the desire to rebel - if only out of sheer perversity - clearly vied for superiority when it came to her dealings with other people. To her surprise, however, Ellie didn't appear at all bothered by the inherent foolishness of taking on Jake for a second time. On the contrary, she seemed thrilled by the idea.

"You know what, Jack? If you've got the nerve to take him on again, then I reckon you should do it," she said, grinning. "Hah! Coach Devereaux is a tough old goat, and he doesn't miss a trick either. If those three want to try out this year, then they'll have to behave themselves, and no two ways about it."

"Yeah, he'll have them doing press-ups for a week if they try cheating on his watch," said Connor.

"Oh, I'd love to see their faces if you get onto the basketball team," said Ellie, and her grin widened. "They can't lay a finger on you if you do, in case they scupper the whole team's chances! They'll be so cross and they won't be able to do anything about it…!"

She did a gleeful little dance on the spot.

"And if you're good, then you've got a decent chance of making the team, which I guess could make things a little easier on you while you're here," Connor pointed out. "People here respect athletes, so I'm sure they'll back off. Hey, it's worth a try, right?"

Lisa wasn't so convinced of the merits of trying out for the basketball team. In fact, she didn't really see the point, given that their stay at Arklay wasn't going to be a long one, but the thought of getting another shot at sporting triumph had so excited Jack that she saw no point in arguing. It was true that there would be less scope for cheating under the eye of a watchful school coach, and if what Connor said was correct, then there was a possibility that Jack might get an easier time at school, which might be worth a little risk.

When they finally reached the school grounds, Jack's first port of call was the nurse's office. The school nurse was a plump, no-nonsense Irishwoman with greying hair and though she tutted a little over his injuries, she cleaned up the drying blood from his face and eventually pronounced him fine, if rather bruised.

Their first class that morning was Spanish; the second, Geography. Jack sat restlessly through both and fidgeted his way through the rest of the morning's classes until the lunch bell finally rang.

Connor headed straight for the cafeteria, not wanting to miss lunch, but Ellie and Lisa accompanied Jack to the gymnasium, the doors of which were adorned with a big "Basketball Tryouts Today!" banner.

This wasn't the first time Lisa had been to the gymnasium. The twice-weekly gym class was the same minor hell that she remembered from Raccoon High - ill-fitting shorts, the smell of old socks, bitchy comments from the more athletic girls, and, of course, the same crushing sense of embarrassment that came with being persistently, spectacularly bad at gymnastics in front of jeering classmates. However, this was her first opportunity to sit down and properly take in the surroundings.

There wasn't much to take in. The gymnasium was a smallish, shabby-looking hall painted in white and institution teal, and its polished wooden floor bore the scratches and scuff-marks that came from forty years of use. The lights didn't seem to work, and the high, narrow windows were so thick with cobwebs that only a small amount of grey daylight was able to make it through into the building.

Ellie shuddered as she went up the bleachers and sat down next to Lisa.

"Yuck. I hate this place. It smells like my brother's trainers and people always leave their chewing gum under the seats. Revolting."

"I'd much rather be sitting up here than down there," said Lisa. "I hate gym class. If I didn't have to stand there two afternoons a week in those stupid shorts, in front of everybody, being laughed at because I can't do backflips, I'd be a lot happier. I mean, _I_ know I'm no good at gymnastics, the teacher knows I'm no good at gymnastics, and by the end of class, everybody else knows it too. Why keep making me do it when it's obvious I just can't?"

"Some people just aren't cut out for cartwheels and rope-climbing. I don't see the point in forcing the issue," Ellie agreed. "Exercise in total pointlessness, if you ask me. As for making girls play football, that's just horrifying. My brother _laughs _at me because I have to do football at school. And I don't care what people say, calling it soccer doesn't take away any of the humiliation."

Jack and a few other anxious-looking boys were milling around the basketball court when the gymnasium doors slammed open. Coach Devereaux strolled in, with Herb, Russell, Jake and two more boys trailing behind him. The coach was a beefy-looking guy in his sixties, and in spite of his imposing dimensions, you usually heard him long before he came into view; he had the loudest voice Lisa had ever heard.

"ALL RIGHT!" Coach Devereaux announced, as the doors swung closed behind him. "AS YOU ALL KNOW, DUE TO THE RECENT DISASTER IN RACCOON CITY, THE RACCOON COUNTY SCHOOL DISTRICT POSTPONED THE START OF THE SPORTS SEASON BECAUSE OF SAFETY CONCERNS AND LOCAL QUARANTINE RESTRICTIONS! THIS IS THE REASON FOR THE DELAY IN OUR ANNUAL TRYOUTS! HOWEVER, NOW THAT SAFETY CONCERNS HAVE BEEN ABATED, WE ARE NOW ABLE TO COMMENCE SELECTION FOR THE ARKLAY HIGH SCHOOL BASKETBALL TEAM!"

"He must go through an awful lot of throat lozenges," Lisa remarked, from up on the bleachers.

"He's an ex-drill sergeant. I think he was in Vietnam at some point," said Ellie. "Tell you the truth, I think he should have just stayed at home and shouted. They would have heard him from over there and he'd have saved on the uniform."

Lisa tried to suppress a giggle.

"OKAY, LET'S GET STARTED! LINE UP ALONG THE FAR WALL!"

The boys hurried across the court and lined up along the wall, as the coach had instructed. He strode down the line, inspecting each hopeful in turn as though they were raw recruits at boot camp and then bellowing instructions in their faces.

"MADDIGAN! GROVER! BENNING! CARVER! JONES! YOU'RE ON TEAM A! GRAB A BASKETBALL AND START WARMING UP! GET MOVING!"

The five boys hurried onto the court. One of them, a dark-haired boy who Lisa didn't recognise, scooped up a basketball from the bag in the corner and tossed it towards Russell. They started warming up, practising throws and catches and bouncing the ball back and forth between them.

"GOOD! TEAM B - DAVIS, LAURENT, SANDERS, WATKINS AND CARPENTER!"

Four more boys stepped up, and so did a nervous-looking Jack.

"GO WARM UP! FIVE MINUTES TO PRACTISE, AND THEN WE'RE GOING TO PLAY SOME BASKETBALL!"

"I think my eardrums just exploded," said Lisa. "Poor Jack. I'm starting to wonder if I should have talked him out of this."

"Why?" said Ellie, putting her feet up on the bench in front of her. "There's only so much they can do to him when the coach is watching. Nice chance for him to show them he's not going to let them get him down, too. I mean, he can't just give up fighting and let them walk all over him, can he?"

"I'm surprised at you," said Lisa. "I thought you'd tell him to lie low for a while after what happened this morning. What if they manage to humiliate him a second time around? How's that going to make him feel?"

"A bit rubbish, probably," said Ellie. "But you can only keep your head down so much, and it doesn't stop them from picking on you. Once in a while you have to fight back a bit and show them you're not just some pitiful pushover they can kick around like a football whenever they like. And if he does come out of this on top then he can hold his head up a little higher. That'll do him the world of good."

"I know, but - "

"I know you love him to bits, and fair play to you for looking out for him, but you can't protect him from everything. Once in a while we've all got stuff we have to do on our own. Just be there for him at the end of it, all right?"

Lisa nodded.

"Okay."

"There you go. Anyway, what did you make of that maths homework last night?"

"Ugh."

"My thoughts exactly. Trigonometry shouldn't be allowed. And don't ask me about geometry. What's the point? I'm never going to be an architect, or an engineer, or an astronaut or whatever. When am I ever going to use this stuff?"

"You might end up in forensic science, studying ballistics," Lisa suggested.

"With my phenomenal grasp of physics? Not likely. Wouldn't mind doing law, though. Maybe I could be a judge one day. Hmm. Her Honour Judge Ellie Johnson… I rather like the sound of that."

Lisa imagined Ellie in judge's robes and a wig, glaring down at the courtroom as she sentenced Karen to ten years' hard labour for being blonde and popular, then slamming down her gavel and calling for the next miscreant. She tried not to smile. It fitted, somehow, although the punk t-shirts and Army boots would probably have to go. Although pleasing in theory, Ellie the Anarchist Judge wouldn't work in practice, particularly the legal kind.

Down on the court, however, there was no time for daydreaming. The basketball had just been knocked out of the centre circle by a player from Jake's team and was now in motion.

Jack's eyes darted back and forth as he watched his fellow players grappling for control of the ball and waited for the next pass. They weren't especially good at the game; despite their pushing and jostling, the ball didn't seem to be moving all that much. They appeared to think that basketball consisted mostly of clustering around the ball, jumping up and down and trying to snatch it from each others' hands. Even the Street Rats, amateurs who'd played after school on a half-court behind Mitch's apartment building, would have greeted such feeble efforts with hoots of laughter.

As it was, Jack soon spotted a gap and darted into the group, emerging proudly with the ball a second later. The huddle of players immediately dispersed outwards and across the court, all yelling for him to pass it to them.

He tossed it in the direction of the team captain, a tall red-haired boy, who caught the chest-pass neatly and then passed the ball, with slightly less finesse, to a team-mate on his left. The boy promptly dropped it, earning him a bellow of "PICK IT UP, SANDERS!" from the sidelines.

Before he could, Herb darted across the court and scooped it up, grinning.

"Too slow, Sanders! Russ!"

Russell turned and raised his arms, ready for the pass. Herb hurled the ball his way and he leapt up, plucking it out of the air. A skinny brown-haired boy tried to intercept the ball but was shoved unceremoniously aside. The boy yelled as he fell sideways and hit the floor.

"Hey, no shoving! Coach, did you see that?" he protested, picking himself up again.

Coach Devereaux responded with a shrill blast on his whistle.

"CARVER, BASKETBALL IS A NON-CONTACT SPORT! NO SHOVING ON THE COURT! FREE THROW FOR TEAM B!"

Russell threw the ball sulkily aside. The red-haired boy picked it up again and passed it smoothly to a stocky, slightly shorter boy with black hair. Jack tried to move into a better position, to make himself available for the next pass, but Jake immediately blocked his way.

"Sorry, Carpenter, this one's mine," he said, and jumped up, intercepting the ball. However, one of Jake's team-mates, who had been facing the other way, took a step backwards and collided with him, knocking the ball from his grasp. Jake gave a yell of dismay and tried to reach it.

"Idiot!"

Jack, however, was quicker, and scooped it up from the court before Jake could grab it. He dodged Herb and another player from Team A, dribbling the ball down the court, then shouted out "Watkins!" and threw it in the direction of the skinny brown-haired boy.

Watkins caught it, slightly clumsily, but kept it out of Carver's reach. The basketball bounced its way down the court with him as he ran and was passed back to Davis, the tall red-haired boy.

"Laurent!"

The black-haired boy responded and, before the pursuing Russell Carver could snatch it out of the air, knocked it sideways in Jack's direction.

"Carpenter, back to you! Watch out for Maddigan!"

Jack was already watching out for Maddigan. Jake had a mean look in his eye, the way he always seemed to when things weren't going the way he wanted them to. The stupid bully didn't seem to get the fact that he wasn't always going to be the best at everything, and that revenge wouldn't rectify this. Well, he'd show him!

Up in the spectator stands, Ellie was making Lisa laugh with an anecdote from band practice.

"… so after Muggsy said to Ted his bassline was all wrong, Ted tried to wallop him round the head with his guitar, because we'd been practising that bit for about four hours, then Nine-Iron turned round and pelted _him _with one of Metal Dave's cymbals, saying it was his fault because he'd nicked the bassline from someone else and no wonder it sounded rubbish! Meanwhile Metal Dave's trying to calm everyone down, but then Ted's _mum _comes in and told us we had to get out of the garage so his dad could park the car, and anyway she reckoned Ted's bassline was a pile of pants as well! And if that wasn't bad enough, Metal Dave's mum came round and told him he had to come home and do his homework. Oh, the shame. I nearly died. And Ted's mum offered us milk and biscuits afterwards, which was even worse. Not exactly the sound of teenage revolution, is it?"

Lisa was in fits of laughter.

"I can't believe that really happened!" she said, wiping her eyes. "Even his _mom _said his playing was awful? That's so embarrassing!"

"Yeah, it was a bit," Ellie agreed. "Lucky really. Dave told me later that Ted had lifted the guitar and bass parts from The Aurora Code after they split up. Imagine if we'd gone on stage with that for our next show and everyone noticed?"

"There'd be an awful lot of booing."

"It's not the booing I'm worried about, it's people chucking bottles at us and trying to rush the stage. The Aurora Code were really big around here at one point. I don't think we'd have got out of the place alive if they'd found out."

"So how come we haven't seen these guys around school?" said Lisa.

"Oh, they graduated back in the summer," said Ellie airily. "Ted and Metal Dave just started college and the others have jobs. We're going on tour in January, though. I can't wait. Anything to get out of town for a bit."

"Will your mom and dad let you go?"

This appeared to be a new consideration, taking Ellie slightly by surprise. She frowned as she gave it some thought.

"Hope so. I haven't actually asked them yet. Dad should be fine, but Mum might be a bit weird about it. She doesn't really know them that well. She might think the lot of us will get up to no good. Oh. You know what, now that I come to think about it, I don't think she'll let me go. Oh dear."

"Well, what will you do then? They're going to need a lead guitarist. They can't go without you."

"I suppose they'll have to get Mazz to fill in for me," Ellie said, with some reluctance. "She's Dave's girlfriend. She isn't as good as me, but I think she'll do until I can get out of school and join them on tour. I just hope they won't replace me permanently if they make it big. Then again, that's showbusiness for you. No such thing as loyalty these days, is there?"

"I wouldn't say that," said Lisa, frowning.

"You probably wouldn't, but then again, you're nice like that," said Ellie, shrugging. "Oh well. Hey, Jack looks like he's holding his end up all right, doesn't he?"

"He what?"

"I mean he's doing well," Ellie tried again. "Has he been on a team before, or is this his first tryout?"

"He used to play basketball with the other skaters sometimes, but not officially, at least not since I've known him," said Lisa. "I think he's good enough to get onto a proper sports team, though. I just hope the coach feels the same."

"If he can survive the tryouts, then I'm sure he'll get onto the team," said Ellie. "Mind you, Jake and friends look like they wish he'd drop dead. They're giving him a right dose of the evils down there. If looks could kill, eh?"

Jack wasn't the only one to notice that he wasn't surrounded by friendly faces. He could see Herb scowling at him a few feet to his right; on his left were Jake and Russell, both just waiting for him to move. He clutched the ball tightly, feeling the rough dimples on the surface digging into his palms, and looked for a space that was big enough to escape into.

Seeing none, he decided to go for the next best option and throw it above their heads, hoping that Laurent, who was standing a little way behind and waving his arms in the air, would be able to leap up and catch it before they could. He launched the ball high into the air and saw it soar up and forwards…

… right into Jake's hands.

"Too bad," he taunted. "That was a pretty nice throw for a little girl like you. Maybe when you grow up, you can play some _real _basketball."

With that, he turned and passed it back to Herb, who dribbled it about halfway down the court and then tossed it back into the open arms of a compatriot. Jack watched with a sinking heart as it soared up again and then fell neatly into Team B's hoop.

"Two points!" said Russell, with a whoop. "Nice catch, Jake!"

"Thanks. Couldn't have done it without Carpenter and his sissy girl throw!"

Jack saw a couple of his team-mates glare at him, and tried not to cringe. This time, he vowed, he'd be the one who snatched the ball and scored two glorious points for his team. He wasn't going to let Jake, Herb and Russell make a fool of him in front of everyone for a second time today.

"Hey, Carpenter, maybe you should just go play for the other team or something!" shouted Sanders, from across the court.

"What the hell, man? You handed it right to them!" complained Laurent.

"Yeah, why don't you watch where you're throwing?"

"You might not want to make the cut, but we sure as hell do!"

"Pssh. Loser…"

"Yeah, whatever," muttered Jack, still cringing inside.

Up on the bleachers, Lisa felt her toes curl in anguish. Poor Jack. She knew exactly how he felt. She'd had the same desire to sink into the floor back in April, after taking up another student's advice that some blonde highlights would look great in her hair. She'd spent a couple of hours in the bathroom that night carefully putting some blonde streaks in her hair, and had gone in the next day feeling very glamorous indeed. Instead of being complimented on her new look, however, she'd been mocked for "pretending to be blonde and pretty" like the popular girls in her class, and the level of scorn had been such that she'd fled the classroom and spent the next hour huddling in the corner of the girls' locker room, trying to hide from her own embarrassment.

Her best friend had tried her utmost to comfort her, saying that she thought it looked okay and reminding her that they were just trying to fling insults at her to see what would stick. She'd replied tearfully that she knew, but she just wanted to be pretty and for people to admire her for once, instead of just ignoring her or brushing her off as a geeky nobody. In the end, Charlotte had brought her back to her house after school and they'd gone through three bottles of shampoo in an attempt to wash the dye out of her hair. Thankfully, they'd been able to get most of it out that night; there had been a few faint streaks of blonde left, but they'd soon faded and her hair had returned to its usual dark brown within a couple of weeks.

_Oh, Charlotte. I remember you telling me it was lucky I hadn't bleached it first. You always knew what to do about everything…_

She still missed her best friend. Charlotte Lascelles had been a quiet, sensible girl with a subtle sense of humour and a passion for learning and books. They'd grown up together - swapping books, sharing secrets and private jokes, going to the movies on Saturdays, hanging out after school at the park and the public library, and always wondering what they'd do when they got older.

Back then, Lisa had wanted to travel and see the world and all its wonders. Charlotte had wanted to go even further afield and explore outer space. However, Charlotte's hopes of being the first female American astronaut had been cruelly cut short when she vanished without any explanation.

Lisa had been distraught when told that Charlotte's family had moved away, thinking her best friend had left without even telling her, but that had been nothing compared to her grief when she discovered the truth behind Charlotte's sudden disappearance.

That image still haunted her. Nothing in the world could have prepared her for the shock of discovering her oldest and dearest friend floating lifelessly in a specimen tank, with her face twisted in terrible pain. Charlotte had died alone, terrified, in agony, and she hadn't even known about it. Worse, there had been nothing she could have done to save her. Her fate had been sealed the moment she'd wandered too close to that dead factory to retrieve a lost baseball.

And the worst part was that, having dredged up a memory of Charlotte, she could see a passing resemblance between her dead friend and the girl sitting next to her. Ellie had the same colour hair, the same glasses, even the same tall, skinny, slightly awkward build. Now that she'd noticed it, the likeness was becoming more and more impossible to ignore.

It was just too strange for words. It was almost as though the past that she kept revisiting in her dreams was starting to seep through into the present. Was this some kind of nightmare? Would she wake up from this? Or would she have to relive her past, over and over, for real?

"Lisa? What's the matter?"

Lisa blinked, and looked at Ellie.

"What?"

"You all right? You look a bit strange… you've gone all pale. You're not going to faint or anything, are you?"

"No," said Lisa. "No, I'm - I'm fine. Sorry. I was just thinking about something."

"You looked like you were miles away."

Lisa thought of Charlotte's underground tomb, a laboratory long since consumed by fire and the explosions that had rocked Raccoon City just days before the city itself was wiped clean off the face of the surrounding plains by a nuclear strike. There was probably nothing left of the site but dust and the ribbon of cracked asphalt that led to it. There certainly wouldn't be any remains to go back and bury, even if the radiation had dissipated by now. Charlotte, and every trace of her, was gone forever.

"I kind of was," she said. "Sorry. Did I miss anything?"

"Not much," said Ellie, putting her feet up on the bench in front. "They're all pushing and shoving for the ball and old Devereaux's been bellowing his head off, but nothing's really happening down there. Boring really. I think they're going to switch the teams around soon."

Lisa nodded, and looked back and forth across the court, searching for Jack. She spotted him a second later, ducking away from someone's outstretched elbow, and saw him dash away across the court, ready to receive a chest-pass from one of his team-mates.

Jack still wasn't having much luck on the basketball court. Nobody seemed ready to pass to him; he kept trying to make himself seen, but his team-mates seemed to be ignoring him. The ball was passing him by completely, as if he wasn't even on the court.

"Assholes," he said through his teeth.

They were doing it on purpose. They didn't trust him not to get his next throw wrong, so they were avoiding him. They wanted to make sure he couldn't get the ball and screw things up. How was he supposed to prove his worth to the team if they wouldn't let him make up for a mistake?

Well, he'd just have to try harder, and show them all!

Jack looked around, then started to inch forward, almost on the tips of his toes. It took him a moment to spot the ball, which was caught in a struggle between one of his team-mates and two of Jake's. It was being tugged back and forth; Coach Devereaux was opening his mouth to bellow an intervention.

He crept forward. His mouth was dry, and his heart was starting to race again. One of the boys had finally accepted the coach's hollered instruction to pick up the ball for a penalty throw, and was scanning the court for a friendly pair of outstretched arms.

That was going to be his ball. It would come from Benning, one of Jake's team-mates, but he'd grab it right out of his hands. He already knew what he was going to do, and it was going to make his team sorry they'd ever dismissed him out of hand.

"HEY!"

Benning blinked and looked around, to see where the shout had come from, but Jack had already moved out of sight, ducking behind Jones, a tall and very thickset player from Jake's team. He saw Benning shake his head, then throw to Jones. Jones moved to catch it, but Jack moved quicker; he managed to reach out and swat the ball out of the boy's hands before he could close his fingers around it, sending it bouncing away across the court.

Herb, Russell and Watkins all stampeded after it, trying to pluck it from the floor before it rolled over the sideline. Jack, however, got there first and snatched it up.

Lisa cried out with joy, then looked around, blushing and embarrassed, when she realised she was the only one. There were a few other people sitting on the benches around her, but they were mostly talking amongst themselves, only glancing at the play-off in progress once in a while. Mercifully, they didn't seem to have noticed her outburst.

Jack was now well in control of the ball. Whenever someone jumped out at him and tried to challenge his progress, he ducked around them or made some neat little evasive move, taking full advantage of the fact that he was smaller and more nimble than most of the other players. The ball was little more than a large orange blur as he dribbled it right around whatever got in his way, bouncing it low and quick against the scuffed floorboards as he dodged his way past the other players.

"Looks like he's going for a jump shot," Lisa commented.

"That's nice," said Ellie, who seemed to have lost interest in the game in progress. She'd opened up her backpack and was now working on a half-completed chemistry assignment, balancing the books on her outstretched legs as she wrote. Lisa didn't think she was listening at all until she added:

"Think he can make it from there?"

"From there?" said Lisa. "No, he'll have to get a lot closer. He's right at the other end of the court and he's still trying to get through the other players, never mind take a jump shot from all the way over there. I don't even think that's possible."

Jack's eyes were focused firmly on the hoop at the far end of the court. He was aware of people around him, but he paid them no attention. Right now, all that mattered was the ball, and the hoop, and the large gap that lay between them.

Except it wasn't that large a gap. In his head, he could span that distance with a single long bound. He imagined himself -

… _leaping up, soaring across the distance in one long, uninterrupted, graceful arc, reaching up with both arms and dropping the ball effortlessly through the hoop, touching the metal rim and then feeling the yawning space beneath his feet lessen, as gravity drew him back down to earth…_

Up on the bleachers, Ellie glanced up and saw Lisa staring dumbly ahead of her. She looked too, and felt her mouth drop open.

"What in the name of - ?" she said out loud. "I don't believe it! He just jumped across an entire basketball court!"

Lisa was still staring. She didn't look away even when Ellie grabbed her by the elbow, so full of excitement and incredulity that she was halfway out of her seat, scattering books and papers all over the floor.

"Did you just _see _that?" Ellie gasped, pointing to the court with her free arm. "Did you? He just - jumped right across the court! One end to the other! In one bound!"

Lisa bent down to pick up Ellie's pen, which was rolling away and about to drop beneath the next step of the bleachers.

"That's not possible. Nobody can jump that far," she said.

She shook her head. It didn't seem possible, but her eyes were begging her brain to believe them. Sure enough, there was Jack, one arm dangling from the hoop at the opposite end of the court. It looked like he'd done it.

"Did he really do that?" she said, suddenly confused.

"He bloody well did!" said Ellie, gaping in wonderment. "Look at him! I've never seen anyone do something like that before! I didn't even think people could _do _things like that!"

She started to laugh.

"He's going to be the best basketball player ever! No team in the world would turn that kind of talent down! Incredible! Utterly incredible…"

Nobody else seemed to believe it either. Everyone in the gymnasium had stopped talking and their eyes were all fixed on Jack. There was no sound, no movement. Silence stretched across the entire court, from the reserve bench to the bleachers.

Jack dropped down from the hoop. The soft _smack _of both sneakers hitting the wooden floor as he landed was the only sound in the room. He too couldn't quite believe that he'd done it, without even really thinking about it, but he couldn't contain the grin on his face.

"Yeah!" he cried. "Three points, right? How 'bout that?"

His grin faded a little as the words echoed into a ringing silence. There was a stunned look on the faces of the people watching the game, and Ellie was still pointing in excitement from up on the bleachers, but Lisa was staring at him, as though she didn't know what to say.

Still triumphant, he looked around to see the reaction of his fellow players, but his grin faded into nothing. None of them looked pleased. Some looked surprised, like the sparse audience watching from above the court, but the others were suspicious, frowning.

"What the hell," said one of them, at last. "What was that? Three points?"

"Just three? Seriously? They don't give more for that?"

"I've never seen _anyone _do that before…"

They glanced at each other, then at him, then back at each other, then dissolved into a little team huddle, whispering frantically. Jake and Herb didn't join in. They stayed out, staring at him with something that bordered on distaste.

"So," said Jake. "Nice little stunt you pulled there. Think you're pretty smart, huh?"

"Are you kidding?" exclaimed Russell, turning around and gawping at Jake. "That was unbelievable! He - "

Jake and Herb both glared at Russell with such ferocity that he broke off mid-sentence and fell silent. He looked subdued and slightly embarrassed, as he turned away, but he cast one brief, final glance at Jack as he returned to the huddle. There was something in it that might just have been respect.

Jack looked up at the people sitting above him. He felt a little crestfallen, now that the rush of pride at his achievement was starting to subside. Nobody seemed to be applauding his feat. He'd hoped for some smiles, or a few claps. Instead there were just stares, and silence, the stillness punctured only by a few half-heard whispers from the team huddle.

The huddle unfolded, and the other players emerged, one by one. The tall red-haired boy, Davis, gave him a long, slow look, then turned back and muttered something to one of the others. This done, he faced Jack again.

"Well, Carpenter, that was certainly… impressive," he said. "I've never seen anything like that before."

"Thanks," said Jack. He suddenly felt nervous. Despite the boy's apparently encouraging words, there was something wrong with the tone. He didn't sound as though he was paying him a compliment. He didn't look all that pleased, either.

"If it was just up to me, I think you'd make an excellent small forward," continued Davis. "Being able to make a jump-shot like that is - well, it's unbelievable."

Jack drew in his breath. He should have known he wouldn't make the cut. Here it came.

"But here's the thing," added Laurent, the boy standing next to him. "That's exactly the problem, Carpenter. That _was _unbelievable. As in, way too good to be true."

"Exactly," Davis agreed. "I don't think there's anyone in the world who won't agree that what you just did isn't possible. I mean, look at you, kid. You're the shortest guy in the tryouts. No way you can really jump like that without some kind of secret weapon."

Jack had been prepared for the letdown, but not for that last sentence.

"Secret - what? I dunt know what you - "

"Yeah, come on," said Watkins, nudging his way to the front. "What is it? Some kind of steroid? Performance-enhancing stuff?"

"People are going to think we're cheating," said Sanders, folding his arms.

"They're going to think _you're_ cheating," Davis added. "Maybe you are. Maybe you're just lucky, or you are really good at this. I don't know. But I'm not prepared to run the risk of being accused of cheating and losing our rep."

"Yeah, we could get disqualified from the tournaments if people think you're not for real," said Laurent. "Sorry, man. I know you're good and all, but we can't risk everything just for the sake of one guy."

"Anyway, you'll make the rest of us look bad!" said one of the guys from Jake's team. "Why would we want you around to show up the rest of us? It'll look like we're not trying hard enough!"

"Or like we don't care," said Herb.

"Yeah, and we do care," said another member of Jake's team, giving him an accusing stare. "Probably a hell of a lot more than you do. I mean, what, you just come from - well, wherever you're from - and show up like you want to be the star of the team all of a sudden? Like we'll just say okay and give way to an outsider like you, let you take over and get all the glory? When we've worked hard for this too?"

There were a couple of jeers from the crowd.

"Right!" said Watkins suddenly, stepping forward. "Some of us trained real hard to get good enough for the tryouts! We've lived here all our lives and we care about being on this team! Why should we step aside and let someone who strolled into town a few days ago get a shot at being small forward? You probably don't even care about being on the team! You just want to - show off, or something, for your stupid girlfriend, and then beat it as soon as you get bored! Well, you know what? This team is ours! And I say we stick with what we know! With who we know, too! Keep the outsiders on the outside!"

There was a quiet murmur of discontent from the back of what had been the huddle. Boys who'd been stunned a few moments ago were starting to sound aggressive, even territorial. One or two of them were even starting to scowl at him. Jack was starting to wonder if perhaps now would be a good time to start backing away, or maybe make a run for the door.

"ALL RIGHT, THAT'S ENOUGH!" interrupted Coach Devereaux, striding forward onto the court. "I MAKE THE DECISIONS HERE! CARPENTER HAS PLAYED WELL TODAY - HOWEVER, DAVIS HERE HAS MADE A VALID POINT! WE HAVE TO BE OPEN, HONEST AND ACCOUNTABLE AS A TEAM! THAT MEANS THAT NO MEMBER OF THE TEAM CAN ENGAGE OR BE SUSPECTED OF ENGAGING IN FOUL PLAY, OR BEHAVIOUR THAT COULD BE CONSTRUED IN ANY WAY AS DISHONEST OR UNTRUSTWORTHY! WE RISK DISQUALIFICATION FROM MAJOR HIGH SCHOOL TOURNAMENTS IF ANY SUSPICION OF CHEATING HANGS OVER US! WE CANNOT AFFORD TO MISS OUT ON MAJOR TOURNAMENTS AS WE ARE AT THE BOTTOM OF COUNTY LEAGUE TABLES AND…"

Jack looked up in disappointment at the tall, burly coach as the booming pronouncement continued on in a similar vein.

"… IT IS THEREFORE WITH REGRET THAT I MUST ANNOUNCE THAT CARPENTER WILL NOT BE JOINING THE SQUAD THIS YEAR! THIS YEAR'S TEAM WILL BE COMPRISED OF THE FOLLOWING INDIVIDUALS! WATKINS! GROVER! DAVIS…"

He shouldn't have felt this crushed, he knew, as he walked away from Jake and Herb's triumphant guffaws and the noise of people suddenly starting to talk again. He should have suspected this from the start. He was an outsider here, in a town that made its dislike of outsiders quite plain. He didn't have a hope of joining the team, and probably never had a chance in the first place. If he did have a hope, he'd dashed it. All because he'd stood out from the crowd, without even really meaning to.

"… CONGRATULATIONS TO OUR NEW TEAM MEMBERS!"

The scattered outbreaks of clapping from the bleachers sounded like they came from a distant building, or another universe, somewhere far removed from where he was. The sound seemed almost hollow, in a way that he couldn't explain.

Jack walked away, only partly noticing that Lisa and Ellie had descended from the bleachers and joined him on either side; Ellie bursting with moral outrage, Lisa full of tender sympathy. There were words from them both, but he didn't really hear them.

He let the doors close behind him as he left the gymnasium. He wished he could shut the doors on the school, on Arklay, and everything, and run back in time to Tijuana, to Aunt Rosa's reassuring hug and happier times, when the future had seemed so much brighter than it was now.

What was he doing here?

xxxxxxxxxx

The rest of the lunch hour passed quickly. The next class scheduled was Chemistry, with Mr Mortlake. Mr Mortlake was scruffy, dark-haired, in his mid-forties, and quite possibly the most sarcastic human being who ever lived, but he more than compensated for this with boundless enthusiasm for experiments which fizzed impressively, went bang, or at least resulted in the classroom windows having to be opened to let out the smoke.

Ellie and Lisa were lab partners again today, while Connor had been teamed up with Jack at the next table. Today's lesson was about alkaline metals.

"Now these elements can be very volatile, which makes them dangerous," Mr Mortlake explained. "Rubidium and francium, for instance, are highly radioactive elements, so for safety reasons we can't use them here. Francium, which is very unstable, is actually sourced from uranium ore, although it's very rare. Normally its isotopes are synthetic. Rubidium reacts strongly with water and will explode upon contact with air, which is another reason why it's not safe to use it here. Now, given that these are very dangerous elements, can anyone tell me when, say, rubidium can be put to practical use?"

A couple of people looked at each other. Others shrugged, or shook their heads.

"Rubidium is used in photocells and some types of atomic clocks, amongst other applications," Mr Mortlake told them. "Although I didn't expect a lot of you to know that. All right, easier question. Can anyone name any of the other alkaline metals in Group 1 of the periodic table?"

Lisa's hand went up.

"Potassium," she said.

"That's right," said the teacher. "Miss Hartley, what can you tell me about potassium?"

"It's a soft metal, it's silver-coloured, it's… uh, a good conductor. Oh, and it's very reactive," said Lisa. "It's used in fertilisers."

"Also in nuclear reactors," said Mr Mortlake, nodding. "Very good. Do you know what happens when it comes into contact with water?"

"It catches fire," said Lisa.

"Excellent. Yes, it does. Would anyone like to see this reaction?"

There was a lot of nodding.

"Of course you do. It's chemistry class. No fun unless something goes boom, right? Okay, everyone, stand back. I'll set this up so everyone can see, but don't get too close. Like I said, these elements are _very _reactive and they can be dangerous. This is why they're stored under mineral oil and sealed up tight, to prevent any reaction with water or oxygen in the air. After all, we don't want them to go boom just yet, do we?"

Mr Mortlake busied himself with setting up the clear plastic screen around the front workbench for a few moments, then placed a large glass dish of water on the bench. He pulled his protective lab goggles down over his eyes. This done, he unscrewed one of the small screw-top jars on the bench and took out, carefully, with a pair of lab tongs, a tiny strip of silvery metal from beneath. He held this at arm's length, over the dish of water.

"All right, everyone, this is what happens when potassium reacts with water," he announced, then let the metal strip drop into the dish. "Observe."

As soon as it touched the water, the tiny piece of metal ignited, bursting into bright lilac flames. It began zooming around the dish, fizzing, sparking and making the water bubble around it.

"Whoa," exclaimed several of Lisa's classmates.

"That's awesome," said someone towards the back.

The strip of metal had by now fizzed its way into almost nothing. The flames died, then, unexpectedly, the remaining fragment of metal gave a loud "pop" and exploded, causing two of the girls at the back to shriek in surprise.

Mr Mortlake approached the dish again, this time holding a small strip of paper.

"Now, if I were to put a strip of blue litmus paper into the solution contained within the bowl, what colour would it turn?" he asked.

"It's just water," said Jake. "It's not going to do much. It's like neutral pH, right?"

"Wrong," said Mr Mortlake, shaking his head. "Wrong, Mr Maddigan. The water has reacted with the potassium. Now will it be more acidic, or more alkaline?"

"It's an alkaline metal, so… alkaline?" guessed one of the Bascaulet twins.

"That's what I like to hear. Correct, Valerie."

The girl glowered.

"I'm Suzanne. _She's _Valerie."

"Okay, then, Miss Bascaulet. Whichever one you happen to be. Can the other Miss Bascaulet name another of our alkaline metals?"

"Uh… lithium?" guessed Valerie.

"That's a _drug_, you whacked-out moron," said Herb, smacking her in the back of her head. "People take it for depression and shit. Like my aunt does."

"No wonder if she's got you for a nephew, ass-wipe," muttered Suzanne, so Herb couldn't hear.

"But that is, like, an element, right?" her sister piped up, rubbing the back of her head where Herb had smacked her.

"That's correct. Lithium is one of the alkaline metals. Atomic number 3, as it happens. Is it more or less reactive than potassium?"

Marshall's hand went up.

"More?" he suggested hopefully.

"No, in fact, it's less reactive," said Mr Mortlake. "The alkaline metals become _more _reactive as you go down the column, like this…"

He made a sweeping gesture down the first column of the periodic table chart on the wall behind him.

"So sodium's more reactive than lithium, but less reactive than potassium?"

"That's what I said, Mr Faulks, but yes, that's correct. What can you all tell me about sodium and lithium?"

"If you mix sodium with chloride you get salt," said Connor.

"Chlorine, I think you'll find, but yes. Ironic that chlorine and sodium, which are both very dangerous, reactive elements, when combined, make something as harmless, useful and in fact vital to our survival, since our bodies require a small amount of sodium chloride in order to maintain proper brain function."

He frowned a bit as he looked at the proliferation of blank expressions in his classroom. The irony seemed to have been entirely lost on his students. Some of them were probably wondering where iron fitted into all this. He seemed to be wondering himself if one of them was about to suggest that iron might be one of the alkaline metals, and if he should give up his career if this happened.

"All right. Anything else?"

There was no response. He sighed.

"As Mr Grover pointed out, albeit unwittingly, lithium is indeed used in compounds as a medical treatment for bipolar disorder, also known as manic depression. It is also used in the manufacture of batteries, ceramics and alloys. It's also the lightest of the metallic elements. All right. So, the other Group 1 alkaline metal is…?"

"Francium?" said someone.

"I mean the one we haven't mentioned yet. Which is…?"

Ellie sighed, and put her hand up.

"Caesium, sir. It's caesium. We did this in school back home when I was fourteen."

Mr Mortlake raised his eyebrows.

"Oh really? In that case, being so far ahead of the rest of the class, Miss Johnson, I expect you know all about caesium. What can you tell me about it?"

Ellie looked, for a fraction of a second, uncertain. She clearly hadn't been expected to do a pop quiz on caesium, of all things. However, she rallied splendidly.

"Explodes on contact with water, sir," she answered.

There were a couple of amused noises at this, and one or two people said "sweet". Mr Mortlake didn't look especially impressed.

"What else?"

"Atomic number 55."

"Something that _isn't _on the chart behind me?"

"Most reactive of all the elements, sir. It's a soft metal. Rare, too. Used in… photoelectric cells, I think. And it was one of the radioactive elements released during the Chernobyl nuclear disaster. Still dissipating as well. Apparently it won't be gone for ages."

"I take it that you've covered the science behind radioactive half-lives as well, Miss Johnson, thanks to your fine English education system. Say for instance that this particular nuclear isotope will last for thirty years, and it was released twelve years ago. How many years remaining until the end of the current half-life, and by how much will the amount of radioactive caesium decrease?"

"Easy, sir. Eighteen years remaining, and it will have decreased by 50%, to 50% of the original levels."

"And how long before this is no longer radioactive?"

"Bloody long time, sir. It'll take about… uh, a hundred and eighty years to get it down to about 1.5% of the original amount, so at least two hundred years for it to decrease to less than 1%."

"And how many half-lives in two hundred years?"

"Between six and seven. Good argument against nuclear power at any rate."

Mr Mortlake looked impressed this time.

"Perhaps. There are many pros and cons in that particular argument, but we won't go into those now. Very well done, Miss Johnson. I see you've done your research. Would anyone like to see what happens when caesium comes into contact with water?"

Most of the students' hands went up.

"Well, sadly I don't happen to have any on the premises. We do however have an interesting video which we can watch next time, which demonstrates the reaction quite nicely. This afternoon, however, we're going to write down everything we've just learned. Back to your desks."

There were some groans, but they complied. Mr Mortlake tidied away the remains of his experiment and locked the remaining chemicals back in the cabinet.

"Okay, class, start copying this down. Homework tonight is to go over everything we've learned today. Make sure you're familiar with the properties of these elements and their locations in the periodic table. I haven't done a pop quiz in a while, so you might want to bear that in mind for next week…"

They started writing. After a few moments, people began to talk amongst themselves. Lisa and Ellie, who were lab partners and shared the same bench, wrote their notes in silence for a moment or two. Soon, however, Lisa's thoughts returned to the basketball tryouts.

"You know, I've been wondering," she said quietly, to her neighbour. "What is it about high school that seems to bring out the worst in people? I mean, why do we always try and cut people down, instead of encouraging them?"

"I try not to encourage them," said Ellie, who was scribbling notes as fast as she could, trying to keep up with Mr Mortlake's hard-to-read chalkboard writings. "They're bastards. What on earth would I want to encourage them for?"

"I mean why don't we help each other to get better at stuff? You know, lead by example? Try and be better people?"

Ellie looked up from her half-finished chemistry notes.

"I take it you're referring to that "be the best you can be" stuff Mrs B keeps trying to tell us about in Civics, or whatever you call citizenship lessons these days?" she said sourly.

"Exactly."

"Well, I'd say it's because they're already being the best they can be. They're _bastards_. The best _we _can be is better than them. And don't waste your time trying to help them improve themselves. If they were interested in that sort of thing, then they'd make the effort."

"But - "

"Look, you can care all you like, but it's not necessarily going to make any difference. There are some people you just can't change."

"You're so cynical. Don't you ever get depressed, thinking like that?"

"I find optimism slightly depressing. It reminds me how little we've learned."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean if something can go wrong, then it will. And even when things are going well, there's always some mean-spirited swine who wants to ruin it for everyone else. Usually just for the hell of it. That's the human story for you. Same old mistakes over and over again. Somehow we never seem to learn from experience."

"And you wonder why people don't hang out with you much," said Lisa, raising her eyebrows.

"It's because I see what's there," said Ellie, entirely unconcerned by this comment. "Not what people want to be there. As for you, it's because you're a good person. People are usually jealous of people who are better than them, so the consequences are pretty obvious."

Lisa contemplated this.

"But I'm not a good person," she said. "I mean, not really. I know I could be a lot better than I am."

"There you go again," said Ellie, putting down her pen. "You want to make everything better. You know, Lisa, I probably shouldn't like you. You're just too nice."

"What's wrong with wanting to be nice?"

"Well… nothing, I suppose. Now that I think about it, I'm sort of glad there are people like you around. It's nice for cynics like me to be proven wrong every now and then. Still, stop being nice all the time. It's a sign of weakness around here."

"That's why you act the tough girl, huh?"

"I'm tough enough to manage," said Ellie. "I do all right here, don't I?"

"I guess so," said Lisa, although she couldn't help remembering that fleeting moment of hurt she'd seen when Jake had called Ellie a freak.

"See? Provided you don't let your guard down, you'll do fine. You'll be out of here in a couple of weeks. You can be nice as pie for as long as you like after that."

Lisa gave up, and nodded instead.

"Okay."

Ellie returned to her notes, but Lisa was still dwelling on her conversation. She leaned over, past Ellie, to look at the next bench, where Connor and Jack were sitting.

Jack was looking more miserable than she'd ever seen him. He sat at his end of the bench, listlessly writing notes; every now and then, he glanced longingly at the classroom door. The discovery that he was destined to be an outcast here, too, had clearly hit him hard.

She wanted to reach out and tell him that everything was going to be all right. She wanted to reassure him that today's events didn't matter, and that things would surely get better from now on. However, she wasn't sure if she could. She wasn't sure if she even believed it herself.

xxxxxxxxxx

"So how did you do that?" Lisa asked Jack, much later. They were home again, and sitting together on the couch in the living room, curled up side by side.

Jack looked up at her, lifting his head from her shoulder.

"Do what?"

"What you did. Jump across the basketball court like that."

"I dint mean to actually jump 'cross the whole court. It just… I dunt know, I guess the hoop just dint seem that far away. I feel like I could make the distance with one bound an' b'fore I know it, I jump an' there I am, hangin' on the hoop."

"They're right though, Jack. It's not normal for people to do things like that."

Jack pursed his lips.

"You know what, I dunt know if you be much better'n them sometimes. I do somethin' amazin' an' people treat me like I do somethin' wrong? Wow, real nice. Maybe next time I ain't gonna bother tryin' hard to do somethin' if that be the kinda reaction I gonna get."

"Oh, Jack, don't be silly," said Lisa. "It's not that. It is extraordinary, and I'm glad you can do something incredible. But I'm not sure if… well, I don't think people are _supposed _to be able to do that."

"What?"

Lisa tried again.

"What I'm saying is that people aren't normally able to jump the length of a basketball court. You never used to be able to do things like that. I'm wondering why you can now, and what changed you that can make you do that. And if I'm honest, it's starting to bother me. After what you went through in Raccoon City, I keep wondering if that virus changed you somehow. If this is just some leftover of that which'll go away, or whether you're going to stay like that… or… I don't know. You still seem so tired. Are you really all right?"

Jack looked at her. For a long time, he stared into her eyes, blue meeting brown. It wasn't a reassuring gaze. He seemed uncertain and even a little fearful, as though he was looking for answers somewhere in her eyes.

"I… I guess. I dunt know. I ain't a doctor or nothin'. You think I should go see one sometime?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I'm not even sure if we can afford a doctor. Did Amber get us any medical insurance? The only insurance cover I had was the family cover my parents had with Umbrella."

"Aunt Rosa hadda tie up her doctor an' beat him half-senseless b'fore she could get any medical treatment."

"Really? That's awful."

"Nah, she say he like that sorta stuff. I hear him callin' her a naughty girl an' yellin' from the next room even with the TV turned up loud."

Lisa tried not to laugh.

"That's disgraceful."

"Nah, just business. Aunt Rosa got us a couple of checkups from it, so whatever."

"Did she ever mind?" said Lisa timidly. "You know, having to do all the… stuff she did?"

"I dunt think so. I mean, I guess no. She never really complain 'bout it. Never used to talk 'bout it at all, really. I think to her it just used to be work. What you do for a livin' 'cause you gotta get by somehow."

"She must have hated it. I would have."

"To her it be pretty normal. Maybe no at first, but after a while… just a job she hadda do to pay the bills. Dint seem to bother her much as far as I could tell."

"She must have loved you a lot, to do what she did," said Lisa sincerely.

Jack smiled.

"Yeah. I guess so. I love her, too. Always thought of her like my mama. I wonder sometimes if they used to look a whole lot alike."

"Do you remember your mother?"

"A little… sorta. No much really. Pretty faint picture of her in my mind, but I dunt remember how her voice sound. Dunt remember anythin' we used to do together. Just her face. Long, dark hair. Dark eyes."

"How about your father?"

Jack looked suddenly alarmed.

"My dad?"

"Yeah. Do you remember him? You said he went to jail, right?"

Jack nodded.

"What happened? How did he end up there?" she pressed him, as gently as she dared.

Jack's mouth opened, and he seemed to agonise momentarily over the words that might come out. After a few unsuccessful attempts to express himself more eloquently, he blurted out:

"I… he… well, people say it be 'cause he killed my mom."

She'd been prepared for something bad, but she'd never expected that answer. The gasp came out without her even realising she'd opened her mouth.

"He what? He _killed_ her?"

"Aunt Rosa dint think so," said Jack quickly, seeing the horror in her eyes. "She used to say he never would do somethin' like that, 'cause he love her too much. But everybody else back home in Tijuana tell me they had an argument one night an' he killed her. They say they found me next to her in the mornin', tryin' to wake her up. Dunt really remember anythin' but… man, I dunt really know what to think 'bout it. I wonder sometimes if Auntie tell me he dint do it just to make me feel better, or 'cause he lie to her an' say he dint do it, or if he really dint do it at all. But people think he did. An' he still be in prison, last time Auntie tell me 'bout him. Maybe he might get out one day. Or maybe they put him on death row an' he be dead now. Maybe he ain't never gonna get out. I dunt know."

Lisa felt her eyes well up.

"Jack, I'm so sorry," she said.

"Ain't you fault," said Jack, rubbing the back of his hand fiercely across one eye. "Sorry. I dunt know why it upset me, really. I dunt even really know my dad, or my mom. Dunt remember much more 'bout 'em than faces an' what Auntie used to tell me 'bout how they be… 'fore everythin' happen the way it did. I prob'ly never gonna know the truth anyway. Mostly I just try not to think 'bout it."

"What if he was innocent? What if he is still alive? He might still get out of prison one day, right?"

Jack closed his eyes.

"Then somebody else kill my mama, or she kill herself, or it be some kind of an accident. Dunt make much difference. Ain't gonna bring her back. An' even if my dad be innocent then after all that time we spend apart, well, he ain't gonna know me any better'n I know him. We might as well have never met."

"Jack, that's not true. I'm sure he loves you. He must miss you a lot."

"How can you miss somebody you dunt even know? If he remembers me then to him I still be - what, five, six years old? He remember a complete diff'rent person from who I be now. Might as well be somebody else."

"But if he didn't do it… there's still time to catch up, right?"

"Nah. 's been too long. I rather just leave it be. I dunt wanna start diggin' 'case I dig up somethin' I dunt wanna know 'bout. Rather just leave it lie. Better'n wishin' I never start lookin' in the first place an' never bein' able to forget."

"You should still - "

"Lise, look," Jack said sternly. "Would _you _wanna get to know someone who might have killed you mama? After a long time go past, an' you forgot everythin' that happen, an' you live your life without even really thinkin' 'bout it… just 'cause somebody tell you you should make amends? 'Cause I rather just carry on the way I be. I dunt need my dad. Auntie used to take care of me just fine. If I dint need him 'round then, I dunt now either."

"But he's your father! He's still part of your life. Don't you even want to - "

"Stop it, Lise," said Jack, and he got up from the couch. "I know you wanna help, but this ain't somethin' you can make better. An' I dunt want you to try to fix it. Just leave it alone, okay?"

He walked out of the room, and closed the door behind him. It wasn't slammed in anger. Just closed, quietly but decisively. It was clear that he didn't want her running after him, all hugs and apologies.

Lisa sat alone, and thought about the little boy that Jack would have been, long ago, sitting on blood-stained floorboards and trying to rouse a mother who would never wake. Poor Jack. The suffering he must have seen would have been enough to fill a lifetime on its own, without a zombie outbreak killing his beloved aunt and all his friends on top of that. Suddenly her own problems didn't seem half as bad in comparison to what he'd been through, even though she missed her parents with all her heart.

However, she couldn't understand why Jack wanted to leave behind and forget what remained of his past, when in his shoes she would surely have wanted to know, if only to stop wondering why Mrs Carpenter had met her tragic end, and whether or not Mr Carpenter was some lowlife criminal who'd killed his wife in a fit of temper, or an innocent man languishing behind bars.

She thought of her own mother and father, and how she missed them. Now that they were both without parents, what would happen to them? They couldn't stay here in this place forever while their absent friends fought long, difficult campaigns overseas; this was only a temporary arrangement, as she was well aware. Would they be adopted, or were they too old for that now?

Perhaps Amber, Renée and Dr Harlech would be their new legal guardians. It would be a strange family unit, but at least it would save them from the terror of the unknown.

Then again, who was she kidding? They hardly knew each other. They'd only met at all because the outbreak had thrown them together on that one dreadful day in Raccoon City. It was through the kindness of three complete strangers that she and Jack had a roof over their heads at all.

She hoped, though, that they'd be able to cement their fledgling friendship properly when they returned. She and Jack had enjoyed getting to know their new companions properly in the days after they'd left Raccoon City. They were nice people, and she couldn't wait to have them back.

Kind-hearted Amber… bouncy, madcap Renée… Dr H, conscientious, guilt-ridden and meek. She hoped they were all right, wherever they were. Their travels in Europe had taken them so far away from home. Thousands of miles lay between them and help, if they needed it.

Come to think of it, she and Jack were in much the same position. They were a long way from the assistance of their temporary protectors, if anything were to happen here.

But there was Mrs Winfield downstairs, who was apparently happy to help if ever there was something they needed, and not far from here lived Ellie, who seemed to have an answer for all the world's ills, especially ones which related to school trouble. Help would be at hand if required.

On the whole, thought Lisa, as she stretched out on the couch and turned her face towards the fading light from the window, they were lucky. Things could have been a hell of a lot worse.


	11. The Art Of War

**11: The Art of War**

**Friday 23rd October, 1998**

The day dawned dark and dreary, but when Lisa got out of bed, rubbing sleep from her eyes, she realised it was Friday.

Her spirits immediately started to lift. The weekend was almost here. Two days of freedom from school and all its constraints meant that she and Jack could do whatever they wanted… well, whatever they could find to do in Arklay on a Saturday or Sunday.

She got up, put on some jeans and a yellow blouse, then sat at the dressing-table and brushed her hair in front of the mirror. Behind her reflected self, she could see the bed, neatly made, with her pyjamas folded and left on top of the pillows. On the bedside table, beside the alarm clock, was the family photograph that she'd rescued from her parents' laboratory.

Her things, in her room. Except it wasn't her room, was it? It felt more like a hotel room. Hers to borrow for a little while, but not long enough to get used to the space, or to make her mark on it.

_Not a place to live. Just a place to stay. Still, we'll only be here for a little while, until Dr H and the others get back. One day we'll find somewhere to call home again, I'm sure of it. But I miss my home. My real home._

She looked over her shoulder at the family photo, then back at her reflection. She'd changed a lot since that photograph. She'd been a little girl then; trusting, innocent, blind to the horrors of the world. Now she was older, and wiser. She wished she wasn't. She was beginning to understand what Jack meant about the difficulty of trying to forget things which should have been left unknown.

She wished she hadn't found out what her parents had been doing. Who they were and what they'd done seemed almost impossible to reconcile. She was still struggling to understand how two good people could help to unleash such suffering on the world - even under duress. Occasionally, too, she wished that she hadn't found out what had happened to them. Though she would have waited, wondered and grieved over their absence, would the lack of closure really have been as bad as finding them in those circumstances?

Maybe it would. Now she'd never know.

Her gaze returned from the middle distance to her reflection in the mirror. The dark circles that seemed to have been present around her eyes these past few days had faded; there had been no nightmares last night and she'd slept soundly. Her hair was behaving itself, as it mostly did. There were no blotches or blemishes which needed covering up, which was just as well, because she didn't think there had been any make-up in her backpack when she left town.

She looked okay, but her outfit looked a little off somehow. It seemed to lack a certain something.

_Ah… I know what I need…_

She searched among the items strewn across the dressing-table until she found what she was looking for amid the heaps of of pearl necklaces, yellowing diamanté brooches and old, dried-up cosmetics.

Her silver charm bracelet had been a present from her parents. They'd given it to her last year, for her fifteenth birthday. She'd owned a lot of jewellery back home, mostly costume pieces and cheap accessories from the mall, but this had been her favourite, and one of the few personal possessions she'd been able to retrieve from her home before she was forced to flee the city.

It was funny, really, she thought, turning the bracelet over in her hands. At the time, all she'd been able to think about was to take what she could and get out of town. Now the things she'd saved seemed to have lost their value; all she could think about was what she'd left behind. She would have traded any and all of her few possessions for another chance to go back and rescue her parents… or even just to have said goodbye.

She hesitated at first. Was it too precious to wear, because of what it meant to her? But then there seemed little point in having it at all if she never wore it again, for fear of breaking or losing it. And she thought of Jack, who always wore his mother's wedding ring on a chain around his neck so that he could keep part of her close to him. Perhaps she should do the same, to keep her parents' memory alive.

She fastened the bracelet around her wrist and checked to make sure all of the charms were still attached. Each one, her mother and father had told her, stood for something special that they wanted her to have in her life. They'd showed her each one in turn and explained their significance; she'd never forgotten those words.

"A key, for security," she recited. "A heart, for love. A flower, for beauty. A book, for wisdom. A bird, for freedom. A teddy bear, for innocence. A shoe, for protection on the road ahead. A star, for hope. And a clover leaf, for luck."

She lifted the little clover charm up with her fingernail and stared at it. Like the others, it had little diamonds embedded in it. Diamonds were supposed to be forever. She could only hope her luck would last that long.

"You sure you wanna wear that thing, Lise?" came Jack's voice from the doorway.

Lisa looked up.

"Why?" she said. "Don't you like it? I can take it off if you want."

"No, I like it fine," said Jack, as he leaned back against the doorframe. "Just dunt want you to lose it, 's all. Those little charms look like they could come off easy."

"Oh, they won't," Lisa assured him. "My dad asked the guy at the jewellery store to fix them on extra tight for me. They won't come off."

"Well, okay, but you be careful with it," said Jack cautiously. "You ready to go?"

"Ready when you are."

"Okay, _querida._ Let's get goin'."

They left their apartment, exchanging greetings with old Mrs Winfield as she stepped out of her apartment to collect the morning's mail. They walked down the path leading to the sidewalk, hand in hand.

"Friday today," Lisa remarked, as they left the yard.

"I like Fridays."

"Me too. What do you want to do tomorrow?"

"Sweep you off your feet an' carry you off into the sunset!" said Jack, grabbing her by the waist.

Lisa shrieked with laughter as he picked her up and swung her around a couple of times. When he set her down on the sidewalk again, she threw her arms around his neck and reached up to him for a kiss.

"All right," she said. "So what do you want to do after that?"

Jack kissed her back.

"Ah, just run away with me, Lise. You be everythin' in the whole world I need. We dunt have to live in this dump no more. We can find somethin' better, right? Maybe go find my mama's family in Mexico. Never met 'em, but, y'know, I been thinkin' 'bout what you say yesterday. 'Bout time I try to get back in touch with my family. Maybe they can tell me what really happen to my parents. Maybe I can even go meet my dad someday. Then we can - "

"Hey, one step at a time. It's only the weekend. Why don't we go see a movie?"

"They got a movie theatre here?"

"I don't know. I'm sure we could find out. Or we could hang out with Ellie, see what she does on the weekend."

"Dint she say she got band practice this weekend?"

"Yes, but not all weekend. I'm sure she does other stuff too. Maybe we could go shopping and hang out at the record store for a while. Go out for lunch somewhere. Something like that."

"Hey, you think they ever have rock shows here? Or some nightclub we could sneak into?"

"Jack, we can't get into nightclubs. You don't have ID, and mine says I'm still young enough to be in school. They'll know we're underage."

"So sneak in through the back window!"

"Have you ever tried to sneak in through a back window in high heels and a dress?"

"Uh… no…"

"Oh, that's out, trust me. I'm not climbing through a window in a skirt. Anything could happen! What if I got stuck halfway and everyone saw my underwear or something?"

Jack swallowed hard. Living in close quarters with the love of his young life was hard enough without having to picture his teenage sweetheart flashing her underwear to an unsuspecting public.

"And I'm not sure if I want to go to a nightclub in Arklay," Lisa continued, not noticing her boyfriend turning a bashful red. "I never even went to a nightclub in Raccoon City. I only ever stayed out late when I was sneaking out to see you. Remember?"

Jack smiled.

"Yeah. I remember. Like at Antonio's party."

"That was fun, wasn't it? I got into so much trouble though… my mom was pretty mad. I know why, now. I wish I hadn't made her upset. She must have been so worried about me."

"I remember I thought you be the most beautiful girl there. Everybody did. People dint believe you came just 'cause of me."

Lisa blushed this time.

"Well… yeah, of course I did. You were my friend, and I liked spending time with you. I didn't even know you liked me back then."

"Sure did. Beautiful Lise from uptown. People kept tellin' me you be outta my league."

Lisa kissed him on the cheek.

"Don't be silly," she said. "Of course you're not."

"I hope you be right. I dunt want you to leave me."

"I won't. I promise."

She reached for Jack's hand as they walked together down the road, and heard the charms on her bracelet jingle as they moved.

They walked together through Arklay, side by side. Jack seemed in better spirits today, although he was still bruised from the previous day's trials and winced visibly on a couple of occasions.

"Hey, you know what?" he said suddenly, stopping beside a streetlight.

"What?"

"I never give you your birthday present, after all we go through back in the city. I mean to go get you somethin' on the day an' then come over after you birthday party, except… well… you know. That plan dint really work out too good."

As he spoke, Lisa recalled that yes, in all the madness she'd been through, there had been a birthday in there somewhere. There'd been a party and guests, to begin with, but as the events of that dreadful day had unfolded, birthday gifts had been the last things on her mind. She hadn't given them a second thought in the days that followed.

"I don't mind," she said, wondering why he'd brought it up.

"But I do," said Jack. "I dint mean to forget. Would've got you somethin' b'fore, 'cept I never see anythin' I like enough, or I see somethin' nice but dint have the money to get it for you."

"You came to save me, Jack. That was the best birthday present you could have given me. I would never have made it out of the city on my own. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here now."

"An' I would've died if you dint save me. Lise, I owe you everythin' an' I dint even get you a lousy birthday present."

"You didn't have to. Coming to find me was enough."

"For me it ain't," said Jack. "I wanted to get you somethin' nice. You deserve it. You be the whole reason I still be here now. If you dint make it out, I was gonna… well, I no would be here if anythin' happen to you back there. I dint wanna make it out of there without you."

"We leave together, or not at all," said Lisa, remembering.

Those words seemed miles away, almost in another lifetime. Looking back on it, it seemed strange, making that desperate pact when they were struggling so hard for their lives. And yet losing each other had seemed a horror too unimaginable for either of them to contemplate living with, even when the bodies of their family and friends had littered the city streets. Without Jack, survival would have been an empty victory, and in a strange kind of way those words had kept them going - they'd fought even harder to live, not so much for their own survival, but so they could keep each other alive.

That was how it felt at the time, anyway. Now, she wondered how she could even have contemplated dying. How selfish, when her parents had done their utmost to try and protect her from the nightmare lying beneath the city. And Jack wouldn't have wanted her to die, any more than she would have wanted him to join her in oblivion, although she knew he would gladly have died to protect her. Perhaps they should have said that they would have done anything to protect each other, so that they could always stay side by side. That would have made more sense.

_Oh well. No point worrying about it. We're here now, and it's past history._

"You didn't want to die really, did you?" she said, in spite of this.

"Nah," said Jack. "Just dint want you to die. An' I wanted to be wherever you be, wherever that be."

Lisa felt a little more relieved than she cared to admit. He'd clearly been thinking along similar lines.

"Still do," he added. "Be why I wanna give you this. Call it a late birthday gift."

He reached into his shirt and took out the fine chain he wore around his neck. She recognised the plain gold wedding band strung onto it; his mother's wedding ring, which he never went anywhere without.

She was astonished when he took the chain from around his neck, for the first time since she'd met him, but she was even more shocked when he took her hand and placed the ring in her palm, closing her fingers around it.

"Here. I want you to have it."

She opened her hand again slowly and looked at the ring. The gold gleamed in the grey daylight, like a tiny band of captured sunshine. It wasn't anything unusual to look at, but some things were precious beyond their material worth; to Jack it was the most valuable thing in the whole world, and he'd handed it to her without even hesitating.

"Oh, Jack," she said at last. "That's so sweet of you, but I can't take this. It was your mother's. I know how much it means to you."

"'s why I want you to keep it. Been thinkin' bout givin' this to you for a while now. I never really find a good time to ask, but I want you to have it."

"But it's your family's…"

Jack took her hand, gently, and closed her fingers around the ring once more. He held her closed hand inside his and pressed it to his chest.

"_You're _my family, Lise. Now dunt ask me if I be sure 'bout that, 'cause yeah, I be sure. Ain't somethin' I would give you if I dint mean it. You know me better'n that."

The smile spread unbidden across Lisa's face.

"You know what's weird?" she said, looking up into his eyes. "We've only known each other a few months. But it feels like forever, doesn't it? Like we've known each other our whole lives."

"Yeah. Guess you an' me be just right for each other. Sign of somethin' good, maybe? Like maybe we should get married one day?"

Lisa's heart jumped. Was that where this conversation was heading? He might have just given her a wedding ring, she didn't think he'd meant it quite like that. Unless -

"Are you asking?"

Jack looked startled for a moment.

"I, uh - no, but… um, well, maybe someday. Y'know, after we graduate. But yeah, I'd like to. Why, dunt you…?"

"No! No, I mean yes," she said, feeling her cheeks flush bright pink.

How stupid of her to think he'd been asking. Like any sixteen-year old boy really wanted to rush into getting married.

"Yes," she said again, then added quickly, "I think I would. One day, that is. But not right away. Not yet."

"No," agreed Jack. "Not yet."

They both laughed out loud at the awkwardness of it.

"I thought you were asking me - "

"Yeah, for a minute I thought - "

Lisa put the chain around her neck and fastened it at the back, then tucked it carefully inside her blouse. She turned away, ready to start walking again.

"Would you, though?" said Jack, behind her. "If I did ask you right here an' now, what would you say?"

Lisa stopped. She hadn't even considered the notion until now, but she still felt her heart leap a little at the words. Had she really heard the question? Was it something she'd imagined? Her face felt as red as it probably looked, unless the shock had made the colour drain completely.

She didn't understand why she felt quite so abashed. If anything, there was something sweet about Jack's half-asked question - a kind of warmth that reached right to the heart. And the more she thought about it, the more she decided that she liked the idea of spending the rest of her life at his side. Together through thick, thin, and high school. That appealed.

"Yes," she said, and now she couldn't help smiling. "I think I would. Would you?"

"Yeah, I would," he said, without hesitation. "I know I ain't got much to offer. No house, no job, no rich family, nothin' like that. I prob'ly ain't gonna have much more to give when I get older. But I love you. I really do. Might be all I got, but - "

"I don't need anything else."

She would have kissed him, but they were almost running late for school and needed to hurry. She contented herself with holding his hand again, giving it a tight squeeze, and wondering what things would be like when they did eventually get married. Would she be Mrs Carpenter? Or Mrs Carpenter y Jemez? How would she write her signature? What would they call their kids, if they had any?

She stole a look at Jack, and even found herself wondering whether he wanted kids if they ever did get married, and more importantly, how she ought to broach the subject without having to pick him up off the floor afterwards.

_I bet they'd be cute kids. Like him. Unless they get my dad's ears. Dad had such weird ears. They always stuck out from behind his glasses, like -_

The next thought hit with all the force of a blow to the head. Her parents wouldn't be there to see her get married. That was heartbreaking. She'd always hoped her dad would walk her up the aisle, while her mother beamed with pride at the sight of her little girl in a big white dress.

Then again, Jack's parents weren't around either. They'd have to enlist their friends as their substitute family. Maybe Ellie could be a bridesmaid, with lots of safety-pin jewellery and combat boots just visible under her frilly dress. Amber and Dr H would turn up in extravagant hats and fuss around them like a pair of maiden aunts, and Renée would throw confetti gleefully everywhere before making a mad dash for the cake. Afterwards, Amber and Dr H would get half-drunk on champagne, make an embarrassment of themselves and start imploring the DJ to play Seventies disco, while Ellie complained that she wanted Seventies punk - and no power ballads, either, or she'd confiscate the rest of their cake as punishment…

"What you smilin' 'bout?"

"Huh?"

Lisa realised that she was grinning. No romantic, dreamy white wedding, like the one she'd always hoped for as a child. There would be madness, chaos and cake everywhere, and she and her future husband would be lucky to get out of the venue with their sanity intact. It was odd, really, but she liked the idea. At least it would be in keeping with the spirit of their relationship - all the barely-contained chaos of the occasion would make their friends feel right at home.

"Oh - nothing. Nothing at all."

Jack, in turn, was wondering how he could possibly make sure Lisa got the kind of wedding that she'd always dreamed of. How would he be able to afford the cake and dress and all that other stuff? More importantly, how could he make sure that Amber didn't bawl copiously every five minutes, Renée didn't blow up the cake, and Dr H didn't drink so much champagne that she attempted to propose to a floral arrangement?

And Lisa would almost certainly want Ellie to be a bridesmaid. Oh, man. That would be one hell of a makeover. How would they get her out of her punk attire and stuff her into something more formal? Even if they did manage to accomplish it without having to shoot her full of tranquiliser darts while she bellowed like an angry rhino, would she demand a punk-themed bridesmaid dress to make up for this outrage? How would he stop his blushing bride having a nervous breakdown when everything started going wrong on the day, as it inevitably would? Would she scream and run away? Could he persuade her to come back when she did?

"You look worried. What's on your mind?"

Jack shook his head and looked down at Lisa. She was still smiling.

"Nothin'," he said. "Nothin' much..."

xxxxxxxxxx

Ellie was sitting on the front steps when they arrived at school. She was reading a music magazine. The pages were tattered and she was flipping them half-heartedly, as if she'd read the articles many times before. Lisa didn't recognise the title but it appeared to be about rock, or metal, or both.

"Good magazine?" she asked.

"Yeah, brought this one from home."

"We do have rock mags here too, you know."

"I know, but this is an old favourite. I was reading it on the plane when I first flew here. And most of the bands in here haven't made it over here yet. I don't get much news about them. But I try and keep up with the scene back home as much as I can, and I get people to send me articles and things when they can. I want to know what I'm missing while I'm here."

"Homesick?" said Jack.

Ellie stood up and put the magazine in her backpack.

"A bit. Mostly I just look forward to being able to get out of here."

"Same here."

"I'll bet. Decided where you'll go when you do? Have you heard from your friends?"

Jack shook his head.

"Not to worry. I'm sure you will soon. Shall we go in? It's getting cold out here."

They traipsed up the steps to the front doors and went inside. People were hurrying back and forth down the corridor and searching lockers for books, gym kit and all the other things they needed for the day's classes. The babble of background noise seemed a little louder than usual, and the smell of sweaty gym socks and gum slightly more acute.

"I like your bracelet," Ellie said, nodding down at Lisa's wrist as they walked. "How many charms have you got? Can't really see them from here."

Lisa lifted up her hand so Ellie could see the charms.

"Nine. See?"

"They're lovely. I like the little diamonds. Are you planning to get any more?"

"No, not yet. It was a birthday present from my parents last year. I'm not even sure if I want to add any more. Each one stands for something special, you see. And I kind of like it the way it is."

"I suppose you could keep it as it is. It does look nice. Be careful with it, though. And don't lose it, whatever you do. If it got lost in this place, I don't think anyone would hand it in. They'd probably hock it for whatever the Bascaulet twins are selling today."

"I'll… bear that in mind," said Lisa, suddenly uncomfortable.

Oh, no. Ellie was right. Of course she was. What had she been thinking? She hadn't been here five minutes and already she was tempted to run home and put the bracelet back on the dressing-table, so that no harm could befall it.

"Don't worry about it too much. Just keep an eye on it and keep it on your wrist. At least we don't have gym class today."

"Yes, I suppose that's something."

They stopped by Ellie's locker so she could get ready for Spanish class. Ellie flung open the scratched, battered metal door and started trying to cram books and papers into her overloaded backpack.

"Oh, wait - I need my textbook too," said Lisa, remembering that she'd left it in her locker the previous day. "I'll be right back."

Ellie was struggling with her bag, balancing it on one knee, with several books perched on top. One of the workbooks was teetering precariously, on the verge of falling, and twice she had to grab it before it could drop to the floor.

"Not a problem," she said, then, as it slid over again, "whoops - Jack, could you get that before it - oh, hell!"

The workbook slipped off the top of her bag and fell before she or Jack could catch it. Loose pages fluttered to the ground around it, and were almost immediately trampled under the feet of passing students. Ellie dropped to her hands and knees to try and retrieve them as they were scuffed and shuffled along the floor. She winced as she picked up a page with a prominent dirty shoe-print right in the middle.

"Sorry," said Jack. "Too late."

"No, no, not your fault, don't worry. Could you give me a hand?"

Jack nodded and stooped to help Ellie pick up the loose worksheets and essays before they could be scattered even further afield.

"You two okay there?" Lisa asked.

"Yeah, we got it, Lise," said Jack, gathering up a couple of crumpled papers. "You go ahead, we can catch you up in a second."

Lisa went ahead to her locker. She entered the combination - 0-9-2-8, her birthday, and the day she'd never forget - and went through the books on the top shelf, finding the one she needed third from the right. She closed the locker and was about to put the book in her backpack when someone standing next to her gave a cry.

"Oh, pretty! Carla, come and look at this bracelet! It's really cute!"

It was Hannah Atkinson, one of Karen's trailing admirers. The mousy-haired girl gestured to the other members of her trio, then, as the two blonder girls - Carla Petacci and Andrea Turner - approached, she grabbed Lisa's wrist to show them her charm bracelet.

"Hey, let go!" Lisa protested.

She tried to pull her wrist back, and dropped her textbook in the process. She wanted to bend and pick it up, but it lay just out of reach of her free hand. Frustrated, she attempted once again to break free and retrieve the book before it could be trampled underfoot.

"Stop freaking out, new girl, we only want to look!" Hannah ordered, and she held Lisa's arm out again so that the other two could inspect it. "Hey, look at that, girls! Isn't that pretty?"

"Ooh, nice bracelet! Where'd you get it, new girl?" said Andrea.

She took Lisa's wrist from Hannah and started pawing at the bracelet, trying to see what the charms were.

"It was a present from my parents. And my name's Lisa," said Lisa irritably, trying and failing to pull her arm back again.

"Oh yeah, aren't you from that town? The one that blew up?" said Hannah, suddenly curious. "Well, I guess there's no chance of getting one like it. Whatever jewellery store they got it from must be long gone."

"Pity," said Andrea, with a sigh, as she turned the star charm over to look at the little diamond on one side. "Well, at least it's more valuable now. You could probably sell it for twice the price."

"Yeah, if you got it decontaminated first," said Carla tartly. "Didn't they have to drop a nuclear bomb on that place? It's probably radioactive."

Andrea gave a shriek and immediately dropped the charm, pushing Lisa's arm away.

"Eww! You mean it's contaminated? Gross!"

"I totally have to wash my hands now," complained Hannah, looking down at her palms, then looking at Lisa with unconcealed disgust. "You could have warned me she was radioactive, Carla! I _touched_ that thing!"

"Me too! We could have, like, nuclear germs! We have to wash right now! I don't want my hair to fall out!"

"Your _hair_ falls out? Oh my God! I don't want to be nuclear!"

Hannah and Andrea both ran off, squealing, in the direction of the girls' bathroom.

"You two are completely stupid, you know that?" Carla shouted after them, then turned to Lisa.

"Hey, here's a tip, new girl," she said, glowering at her. "Try going through a decontamination shower before you bring stuff in here. We don't want to get sick because of you. Why don't you go home and wash your hands or something?"

"I'm not contaminated - or radioactive!" said Lisa crossly, nursing her wrist. "And there's no such thing as nuclear germs - "

But Carla was already hurrying away to catch up the other girls, leaving Lisa's objections to spill out into an emptying corridor. Realising it was futile to continue, Lisa bent to pick up her fallen textbook and put it back in her bag.

"You all right, Lisa?" said Ellie, as she and Jack approached.

"Didn't you hear the news? Apparently, I'm radioactive," said Lisa, rolling her eyes.

She recounted the incident to them. Jack seemed resigned to the conclusion and its inevitability long before it even arrived, but Ellie gave a guffaw.

"I've never heard anything so absurd in my life. Nuclear germs, indeed! Honestly! I'm amazed you could keep a straight face."

"I don't think it's funny to be told I need to be decontaminated," said Lisa, with a tinge of anger in her voice. "Nor is saying that something my late parents gave me is worth twice as much now that my hometown's been nuked. What kind of person says things like that?"

"Oh, ignore them, Lisa. They don't have enough brains between them to fill a spoon. Don't you listen to their nonsense."

Jack nodded.

"Yeah. Stupid girls. Dunt listen to 'em, _chica_."

"I won't," said Lisa, with a glare at the place in the corridor where she'd last seen them. "They're just stupid and ignorant and - and rude! Ugh! How dare they!"

They proceeded to Spanish, the first class of the day. Miss Archer, a cheerful brunette, was a competent enough teacher and mostly in control of her students, although some of the rowdier teenagers used the subject as an excuse to make rude remarks about immigrants and why they had to learn Spanish anyway.

Lisa noticed that Jack always seemed happier in Spanish classes, if a little bored with the material. She couldn't really blame him for that. It was the kind of thing he would have learned as a much younger child back in Mexico, so it must have been tedium itself to go over the basic vocabulary and grammar that he'd used every day growing up.

Next was Mrs Blumenthal's English class, and Lisa noticed that the tables were swiftly turned - this time Jack was the one bewildered and struggling with subject matter considered laughably easy by others the same age. He frequently leaned over to Lisa or Ellie to whisper questions, although Lisa had to remind him that Ellie, who spelled "color" with a u and frowned at the use of "faucet" and "sidewalk", wasn't the best person to ask about the finer points of American English.

"The Queen's English is one thing entirely, I'm more than happy to assist there," Ellie explained later. "But don't ask me about the American version. I get so fed up of having my spelling corrected all the time. I'm tired of explaining over and over why it isn't wrong. Why is it so important for me to take the "u" out of colour, anyway? I'd much rather take the "me" out of America. If only I could."

Although her complaints could be irritating at times, Lisa couldn't help feeling a little sorry for Ellie. It had to be difficult for her, being in a country full of people who spoke her language but used whole sets of different words and expressions that she would never have heard before. Although it wasn't a bar to mutual comprehension, there would be so many little things to trip you up, and people telling you that the words and spellings you'd used all your life were suddenly wrong was bound to grate.

She wondered if Ellie's belief that the British way was the only correct way to spell really was that heartfelt, or if it was just another way to put a brave face on her homesickness. Ellie was thousands of miles away from home and though she always spoke fondly of her old life in London, her laments at not being able to return were never far behind. Lisa's sympathy for the girl in that respect was total. If there had been a Raccoon City left for her to return to, she thought, she would gladly have run all the way home without a backward glance.

"Ellie? Do your family miss England?" she said.

"Pardon?"

"Your brother and sisters. And your parents. Are they happy here?"

Ellie looked a little more glum.

"Oh, Luke and Mel love it here. They're always on about how pretty the mountains are, and how nice it is to have fresh air, and snow at Christmas. Mel always wanted to go to America anyway, and Luke loves elementary school. The other kids seem to like the fact he's English. To them, that's exciting. To this lot, it's just an excuse to try and pick on me for being different - not that I let them, of course. And Ginny wouldn't even remember home. She was only a month old when we left."

"What about your mom and dad?"

"Of course they wanted to go, it was their idea in the first place. I was the only one who wanted to stay where we were. And obviously I was a bit outnumbered on that point."

"I guess so. Sorry."  
"Don't worry. Can't be helped. What's our next class?"

Jack checked his timetable.

"Art," he said.

"Art," said Ellie. "Lovely. Wonder what Count von Rosen is going to make us do today?"

xxxxxxxxxx

"Today," said Mr Rosen, his eyes flashing wildly, "our objective is to see the world, and ourselves, through the eyes of another. What will we see, I wonder? What is the difference between our own sense of self and another's perception of us? Will we see what they see? Will we recognise ourselves in others? Themselves in us? What will we learn from this experience?"

"What are you _talking_ about?" said Karen, in icicle tones.

Mr Rosen stared at her for a moment.

"We will be tackling the art of portraiture," he said finally. "Drawing a classmate and trying to capture their inner self, insofar as you can, on paper. They will reciprocate in kind. Consequently they will see themselves through your eyes, and you, yourself, through theirs."

Adrian Martello raised his hand.

"Which medium are we using?"

"Don't bother, Martello, we're not using _crayon_," Leticia said nastily, from across the room. "You should sit this one out. Too hard."

"For your information, I _aced _the self-portrait assignment," the boy boasted.

"You took a photo of yourself. So what? That's not exactly challenging."

"Photos were allowed, Greenmeadows. Sorry if you were too dumb to think of it first. Don't get all jealous because I had a better idea than you."

"Like I'd ever be jealous of _you_, loser!"

Mr Rosen clapped his hands together.

"Enough! You may use any drawing medium and style of your choosing. There are various materials available to you and plenty of loose paper to practice on, but you must complete this by the end of the class. And who draws who will be entirely at my discretion."

"_What?_" complained the Bascaulet twins.

"No, girls, not what! Who! I will be moving you all around. Your present seating arrangements will have made you too familiar with the people you look at. One of the points of this exercise is to gain a fresh perspective - to look at yourselves, and others, _anew_."

Lisa and Jack looked around the classroom in dismay. They were used to sitting with Ellie and Connor, the only two people in the school to have shown them any kindness or friendship thus far. No doubt they'd be separated and placed with less hospitable neighbours. Who, though?

"Hope they don't put me with Jake," said Ellie, glancing at the next table, where Maddigan was exchanging unspeakable remarks about one of the girls with his pair of henchmen. "Imagine me drawing Jake. I'd need the whole sheet of paper just to fit that big head of his. And God alone knows how he'd draw me. I dread to think."

While she spoke, Mr Rosen had been busy organising the class into pairs, picking people at random from the long wooden tables and getting them to switch places with others. The next table he reached was theirs.

"Mr Carpenter, go and sit with Mr Faulks. Mr Pitman, come here and partner up with Mr Goldberg. Miss Johnson - you can go and sit with Mr Carver."

Ellie looked appalled.

"Oh, sir, really! Can't I - "

"No arguments, Miss Johnson," he said, cutting off her objections. "Off you go. Miss Hall, come and sit over here with Miss Hartley. Now, who else…"

Lisa felt her heart sink as Mr Rosen started to rearrange the students sitting further down the table. Not Karen. Anyone but her!

Karen strode over to the table, high heels clicking on the floor. She gave Lisa a sharp look, but said nothing and sat down opposite her. Will Pitman followed a moment later, taking Jack's place on the bench beside Lisa and fussily arranging his pencil case on the desk. He exchanged hellos with Connor, then looked at her.

"Hey," Lisa greeted him politely.

"Hello, comrade," Will replied. "I was impressed with your show of resistance the other day, against Maddigan. Your struggle on behalf of your fellow students didn't go unappreciated."

She remembered, too late, that the boy not only clung to an unpopular and discredited ideology, but did so with a burning enthusiasm which tended to make the people around him uncomfortable.

"Thanks," she said, shifting in her seat and trying not to let her awkwardness show. "Uh, how are you?"

The boy sighed.

"So tired of these insipid bourgeois pursuits. They're nothing but a waste of resources. We should be learning about science, and progress, and revolutionary history, and how to improve the lot of our fellow man. We should make a stand!"

"You… don't like art, I take it?"

"He doesn't like anything that isn't about stupid Communism," Karen said impatiently. "He's been like this ever since we learned about it."

"People like you are the voice of oppression!"

"Just shut up and draw, Pitman. Nobody cares what you think."

Will gave her a resentful look, but fell silent and picked up a piece of charcoal, starting to sketch some rough circles and lines. Connor, seated opposite, opened up a box of wax-like oil pastels and selected a vivid red with which to begin.

Lisa looked at the blonde girl as closely as she dared, wondering how to even begin with someone like Karen, who came across as the type to belittle even the most sincere effort at artistic representation. What to use? Pencils? Charcoal? Watercolour? Acrylic paint?

_I bet she won't like it, no matter what I use. I don't even know why I'm bothering to worry about it. She wouldn't be happy if I drew her in my own blood and signed it "from your biggest fan". Might as well just go for it and see what happens._

Lisa hesitated, then picked up a 2B pencil from her pencil box and started to draw.

She started with the shape of the face. Karen had an oval face, with a somewhat pointed nose and a high forehead. She traced the outlines, cautiously at first, then with more confidence, to establish the facial area before moving onto the features themselves.

Karen had…

She glanced up at the girl, who was now busy with her own paper. She took in Karen's features for a second or two, then looked back down.

Large eyes, although the abundance of eye makeup made them look a little smaller than they were. They were a surprising shade of blue, almost a lilac-grey colour, and she tried to shade this as best she could with the plain graphite before moving onto the eyelids. She copied Karen's mascara-heavy eyelashes with small strokes, pressing a little more on the paper to emphasis the thickness and darker colour.

Karen's eyebrows were thin, high arches, plucked to within an inch of their lives and then redefined in eyebrow pencil. As Lisa looked up from copying them onto paper, she saw that they were raised from their previous position. She followed the girl's gaze back down to the charm bracelet on her wrist.

"Carla was talking about your bracelet earlier," said Karen, smiling. "First time I've seen it. Where'd you get that?"

Lisa stopped drawing and looked up at the girl. She looked… actually, come to think of it, Lisa wasn't sure how she looked. It was a hard expression to read. There might have been some curiosity in the eyes, a suggestion of guarded friendliness in the smile.

"It was a present. From my parents."

The look on Karen's face hadn't changed. Lisa had heard of an open expression, and had always taken that to mean honest and approachable, but Karen's seemed open in a different sense. Open to interpretation, perhaps.

"Pretty little charms," was all she said. "Do you know where they bought it?"

"They got it in Raccoon City. You probably wouldn't know the store," Lisa hastened to add, hoping this would end the conversation. "It was only a little place. It's gone now, anyway."

Karen looked intrigued.

"Oh? I used to shop in Raccoon City a lot. Which one was it? The one on Main Street? Fraser's? Wilhelm & Gustav?"

Lisa was surprised. Perhaps she shouldn't have been. Popular girls like Karen were the kind to do a lot of shopping, and Raccoon City wasn't all that far away, despite an arduous drive through the mountains in the colder months. There was no reason why the popular shopping districts shouldn't have been known to her, at least to a certain degree.

"Dearheart's," she admitted. "On Hutchinson & Banks. Did you know it?"

Karen's eyes lit up.

"Oh, you lived in Winterton? Your parents must have been rich. The only place more expensive than Dearheart's was Twelve The Place, in Whitchley. Did you ever shop there?"

"No. Nobody I knew did, even in uptown. I think only the really rich families like the Lonsdales and the Warrens shopped there."

"Did you know Beverley Warren? The Mayor's daughter?"

"No. She was older than me. We didn't really move in the same circles, anyway. She went to St Michael's Catholic High."

"So you went to Raccoon City High?"

Lisa nodded, unsure where this line of conversation was going.

"What did your parents do?"

"They… used to work at the hospital. Medical research."

"My mom's a fashion designer. Dad works in investment banking, in Rose Bay City. They buy me a lot of jewellery. They got me a necklace from Twelve The Place for my last birthday. Dearheart's did the cutest bracelets, though. There's nothing up here half as nice. Shame. I was going to ask for one for Christmas."

Karen was looking down at her wrist again, her gaze lingering on the bracelet.

"You could try Cole & Reinhardt, or Holliday's," Lisa said, to distract her. "Rose Bay City has some nice jewellers on the Upper West Side. Perhaps you could - "

Karen just laughed.

"Oh, no. Nowhere near as good. Dearheart's was way better than all those. What I wouldn't give now to get my hands on something of theirs…"

Lisa met Karen's gaze and smiled politely, then dropped her eyes and went back to her sketch.

She started to draw in the curves of the other girl's mouth. Karen had thinner lips than she'd realised at first glance. The bright berry shade of lipstick was a clever way to detract attention from it, because you only noticed the colour, and the lip-liner she used made them look more full and plump. She'd only noticed the illusion when Karen opened her mouth to laugh.

She'd just moved back up the page to draw Karen's ears and the shape of her long blonde hair when she heard Karen say:

"So how much?"

Lisa almost dropped the pencil in surprise.

"I'm sorry?"

"For your bracelet, silly. I always wanted one like that. How much do you want for it?"

Lisa stared at her, trying to work out if the girl was joking. Surely she couldn't be serious?

"It's not for sale," she said at last. "I'm sorry. My late parents gave me this."

"I'm sure you could buy something else to remember them by," Karen coaxed. "Come on. I bet you could use the money. You must miss that swanky uptown lifestyle and your nice house, and all your nice things. Your parents probably didn't leave you with much after the city got blown up. It must be hard being poor after what you were used to."

The pencil stopped abruptly in Lisa's hand.

"I'm not poor," she said, as calmly as she could manage. "Thank you for your concern, but I'd rather you kept the money. I don't think you could pay me enough to part with it, anyway. It's all I've got left of my family."

A smile played subtly across Karen's lips.

"So they left you with nothing, then? Just that little bracelet? Is that all they thought you were worth?"

Lisa's pencil clattered to the floor. She sucked in her breath, then looked up at Karen.

"If this is some kind of _joke _- some way of getting at me - then it's in really bad taste," she said, shaking with anger. "My parents are dead_, _Karen. This was my last ever birthday gift from them. And I don't care what you say to me, or what you try to offer in exchange, you can't have it. It's mine. Besides, even if I did want to give it away, after what you just said, I think I'd rather stick pins in my eyes than hand it over to you."

Karen gave a careless little laugh.

"Really? Fine. If that's how you feel, then keep the stupid thing. I can afford better anyway."

"Then why ask?"

Karen ignored her, and went back to her sketching as if nothing had happened.

Lisa, still seething, picked up her pencil and tried to return her focus to her sketch. She was almost finished, but she was starting to hate the face she was drawing. It was beginning to take on a cruel look around the eyes, and there was a spiteful little curve to the smile that she'd never intended to put there.

_So that's Karen's inner self? Not that I should have expected anything different. Ellie was right about her. And she's worse than Julie. Much worse. Julie was kind of a bitch and she said some pretty mean things about people behind their backs, but even she drew the line at dead relatives. That's unspeakable!_

She sketched furiously, whipping fine lines of hair into place in the drawing and covering Karen's sketched self in long, grey-shaded hair to mimic its real-life blonde tones. Or fake blonde tones. Everything about Karen was fake, right down to her nails and her condescending little smile and her _face_…

The point of her pencil broke.

"Damn it!"

"Five minutes," Mr Rosen called.

"So, how's the revolution going, Will?" Connor enquired of his drawing partner, who was now scribbling to finish his drawing in time. "Still fighting capitalism?"

"It's an uphill struggle, my friend, but we'll get there. The revolution is only a matter of time."

"Have you smashed the State yet?"

"Not yet, but we're working on it…"

"Well, uh, good luck with that," said Connor politely. "Hey, did you hear the noises last night?"

Lisa looked up from sharpening her pencil.

_Noises?_

Will seemed equally curious. He stopped drawing and looked up at his subject.

"What noises were those, comrade?"

"Happened quite late, I think," said Connor. "I woke up in the night and heard a lot of rustling near the treeline, by my house. It was like someone was walking through the edge of the forest, really slowly. And this clinking noise, like glass."

"Odd," said Will thoughtfully. "Hunters, perhaps. Did you hear any voices?"

"I thought I heard someone say something, but I couldn't really make it out. I'm not even sure if it was a person. It was a pretty weird noise."

"A bear, maybe?" Will suggested. "Or a deer?"

"Did you see anything, Connor?" said Lisa, interrupting the boy before he could answer.

To her disappointment, Connor shook his head.

"No, it was too dark to see. I don't think it was a bear, though. Don't they hibernate round this time of year?"

Will's initial burst of curiosity seemed to have lessened. He returned to his drawing and finished the final few details.

"Probably just a deer, then. Nothing to worry about."

"You don't think it was some kind of creature, do you? Like those things people said they saw in the forest when the attacks were happening? The monsters that the old bird lady in town kept shouting about?" said Connor.

This time Will chuckled.

"No, no. Of course not. There are no such things as monsters. You should know better than to believe such primitive superstitions. Especially in this day and age."

"Yeah, like anyone listens to that crazy old woman," Karen interrupted. "She's just some old down-and-out who lost her mind a while back. Mom says she lives out in the woods somewhere. Why would you even listen to her? Half the time she just shouts out stupid gibberish anyway."

Mr Rosen clapped his hands together, and they looked up.

"All right, time's up! Ms Turner, please collect the portraits and bring them to me. When all the portraits have been collected, you may leave for your next class."

Andrea got up and started collecting the pieces of paper from each table.

"Can I see yours?" said Connor, trying to peer over Will's paper to see the drawing.

"Of course. It's yours as well, comrade. Property is theft, remember?"

Will passed his drawing to Connor so that he could see. Lisa glimpsed a sombre-looking charcoal sketch of the boy. There was a lot of dark shading and the subject seemed deep in thought. His amiable features looked stronger and cleaner-cut, his eyes more intense, but it was a good likeness and clearly recognisable. Connor smiled.

"Hey, that's pretty good, Will. I know you don't like art much, but I think you should do more of it. You could be a great artist one day. And if it ended up in an art museum, then you could share your art with everyone. That'd be great, right?"

"Art for the people, by the people," Will said out loud. "And in a museum, free for everyone to visit? I'm starting to like your thinking, Connor. You could be a great friend to the revolution."

"I try to be a great friend to everybody," said Connor simply. "Do you want to see mine?"

"Please."

Connor held it up. In contrast with his drawing partner's piece, it was an Impressionist-style drawing in bright colours which lent an unusual vibrancy to Will Pitman's pale, sober countenance. The short hair was half a dozen mixed shades of brown, the dark eyes were lively and animated, and the flesh tones were drawn in numerous short strokes of pink, red, orange and yellow. The colours made it look rather like a child's drawing, but they blended together in tones and textures which demonstrated some clever techniques.

"A good effort," Will said, with approval. "You should be commended for your industry. Lisa? How about you?"

"Mine's not very good," said Lisa, suddenly feeling anxious. This was the part she'd been dreading. She quite liked drawing, but showing the finished result to an audience for criticism and appraisal had always made her want to hide it from sight out of shame, or throw it away so that they couldn't see.

"We all strive," said Will, unconcerned. "I'm sure you worked with diligence. And even mistakes can advance the march of our progress."

"He's right. We can always learn from the things we get wrong," said Connor. "I'm sure it's not that bad."

"Let me see," said Karen abruptly.

She snatched the drawing from Lisa before she could say anything, and Lisa watched the girl's expression with a butterfly-like feeling of nerves in her chest. It took a moment of study for the reaction to set in.

"What?" said Karen, with a sudden, derisory laugh. "That doesn't look like me. Since when does my hair look like that? And my nose? Ugh! If my nose really looked like that, I'd call a plastic surgeon and get it fixed!"

Lisa had been determined not to go red, but it happened anyway.

"I think it's good," said Connor, looking over Karen's shoulder. "You're not a bad artist, Lisa."

Karen gave him a condescending look and threw it to the table.

"Are you kidding? It's terrible! That drawing looks _nothing_ like me!"

"Well, let's see yours, then," said Lisa, annoyed, and pulled Karen's effort out from under her hands.

She stared at the page for what felt like some time, with the burning in her cheeks showing no sign of subsiding.

It was done in a mix of chalk and charcoal. The features were in the right place, but it was a strange likeness. The girl on paper was unsettlingly like and unlike her all at once; a vulnerable-looking figure with large, frightened eyes and dark hair that fell over her slight shoulders in long, tangled waves. Her nose and ears looked a little exaggerated in size and shape, while her lips seemed smaller and thinner. Her arms and wrists were in proportion, but oddly, given their earlier conversation, Karen seemed to have omitted something.

"You missed my charm bracelet," Lisa said, pointing out the unadorned wrist in the drawing.

Karen made an effort to peer closer.

"So I did," she observed. "Whoops. Too bad. Oh well, here comes Andrea."

"Hi guys, are you all finished?" said Andrea.

"Yep, all set!" Connor said, handing over his and Will's drawings.

"How about you, Karen?"

Karen pulled her drawing from Lisa's hands and passed it to Andrea with a smile.

"Wow, that looks great! It looks just like her!" said Andrea. "How about you, new girl? You done yet?"

Lisa nodded to where her drawing lay, face-down, on the table.

"I'm done."

Andrea picked it up and, to Lisa's embarrassment, gave a smirk when she saw it.

"Well, nice try. Better luck next time. Okay, anyone else? You guys finished over here?"

"_What?_" came Ellie's sharp voice from a neighbouring table. "Since when did I have a moustache and pneumatic breasts? Do you even _have _eyes, Carver? Or are you just taking the piss?"

Russell was snickering.

"Don't like your boob job, Ellie? I thought you could do with one…"

"The next time someone draws you, I hope they hang and quarter you as well! And I hope I'm there to watch! Illiterate buttmonkey!"

Ellie flounced away from the table and back to where she'd been sitting. Karen looked up at her approach.

"So, I hear you didn't like Russell's makeover? Not enough of a boost?" she said, grinning.

"Shut it, Hall. And get out of my seat. Go sit next to Hazel and her revolting perfume death cloud."

"I'll tell her you said that, Eleanor," said Karen, gathering her things and withdrawing gracefully.

"Good! Tell her I almost suffocated!"

Ellie watched her go.

"With any luck, she'll succeed where I failed," she muttered.

"In telling her?" said Connor.

"In suffocating. That cheap scent she uses is foul. I can still taste it at the back of my throat. I wish they'd put me on the other table and not with the jocks and the Clique of Death. Luckily they swapped Jake around with someone, or he'd have had a pencil in the eye by now."

"But he ended up on the table they sent Jack to," said Lisa.

"It's all right, Jack was at the opposite end, next to Marshall and Shazza. They won't have given him any trouble. Shazza's a nice girl and Marshall's not so bad, I suppose, even if he is a misanthropic grump."

Jack returned and quietly switched places with Will.

"How did it go?" said Lisa.

"Marshall's a pretty cool guy. Kinda grouchy, but okay. He likes my drawing. His ain't bad either. Least it look like me. How 'bout you girls?"

"Karen hated mine."

"Ain't surprised. Ellie?"

"Russell drew me with too many fingers, facial hair and breasts the size of England. The filthy pig. I had a feeling he was up to something because he kept grinning. Joke's on him, mind. I drew him in ladies' clothes. Wait till he notices."

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. When I realised he was up to no good, I thought I'd better get my revenge in quick. He was too busy sniggering over his own silly drawing to notice mine. He hasn't seen it yet. I'm looking forward to that."

"Ellie, you're going to get in trouble!" said Lisa, trying her best to suppress her horrified laughter.

"No, I won't. I'll tell Mr Rosen that the transvestism and gender reversal depicts the subconscious feminine side that Russell suppresses, rather than the macho identity he projects on the surface, and that this is one of the many aspects of his inner self, albeit one he doesn't want people to see. He'll probably congratulate me for my insight. Use the right terminology in your justification and you can get away with almost _anything _in art."

That was a stroke of genius, Lisa had to admit. She wished that she'd thought of something similar.

"All right, off you go," said Mr Rosen, waving them out of the door as he picked up the stack of drawings. He started to go through them. "I'll see you all on - _why is there a picture of Mr Carver wearing a brassière and tutu?_"

"What?" bellowed Russell, already half-out of his seat. "Johnson! What did you do?"

Ellie grimaced.

"Oops. I'd better go and sort that out. I'll catch up with you in a sec."

"_Miss Johnson!"_

She ducked back inside the classroom.

"Coming, sir!"

That left Jack and Lisa standing in the corridor, just outside the room. They strained to listen and caught a few words of Ellie's earnest-sounding explanation, then squirmed in unison as Russell bellowed abuse in reply.

Jack flinched.

"Uh-oh. I dunt think he like that too much."

He looked across at Lisa, who had shifted position and was looking uncomfortable.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just need to go to the bathroom."

"Well, go ahead. I can go meet you in Geography. I dunt think we got enough time to wait up for Ellie."

Lisa looked at her watch.

"All right. I'll see you in a moment."

She kissed him on the cheek and hurried along the corridor to the girls' bathroom. The room was empty. She shut herself in the far toilet cubicle, grateful to be alone after the nerve-wracking experience of drawing Karen Hall and for the relief the facility provided.

But as she flushed the toilet and unlocked the cubicle to let herself out, she heard a clutch of female voices and then, to her horror, in came Karen, Hazel and Leticia.

"Beverley, go on ahead, we'll catch up," Hazel called through the door, just before it closed.

Lisa tried to ignore them and went to wash her hands. But as she rinsed soap off her palms, she saw Hazel and Leticia come up behind her, reflected in the mildew-spotted mirror.

"Lisa? Karen wants a word with you," said Leticia.

"Then she can speak to me herself," Lisa retorted. "I'm sure she's more than capable of that."

She turned off the tap and went to put her hands under the dryers. At once, Leticia and Hazel jumped on her, grabbing her wrists and pulling them roughly behind her back.

"Let go of me!" Lisa cried out. "What do you think you're - "

Hazel kept hold of her wrists, but Leticia released her grip and walked around to face Lisa. Lisa could smell Hazel's perfume behind her; the cloying floral seemed peculiarly oppressive in such a small space, almost thick and chemical.

"Will Pitman is an idiot, isn't he?" Karen commented, from beside them. "All that ridiculous slogan-spouting of his. Long live the revolution. Forward for progress. Property is theft."

Leticia took out her nail file and started to file her nails into neat little points, but didn't take her eyes off Lisa. She was still smiling maliciously.

"The last one's a load of garbage," Karen continued. "We all know that. Property isn't theft. But there's something rather appealing about the idea that everything is held in common. So that when I ask for something from someone, I get it."

Lisa realised, with a sinking feeling in her stomach, that she knew what this was about.

"That cuts both ways," she said, as loud as she dared. "It means I could reciprocate. I could ask for something from you, and get it."

"You're asking for it all right," said Hazel, close to her ear.

"You're certainly going to get it," said Leticia, grinning.

Karen smiled too.

"As it happens, I don't have a lot in common with Will. I hate Communism. It goes against everything I stand for. Especially shopping. I think I prefer private ownership."

"Which means I keep what's mine, and you keep what's yours," said Lisa, narrowing her eyes. "Now let me go!"

"I don't think so. Hazel? Wrist, please."

Hazel's grip tightened on Lisa's right wrist as she brought the other forward and held it out straight. Lisa saw the little charms on her bracelet jingling and catching the light from the window.

Karen lifted up her wrist for inspection.

"Don't you touch that! Don't you dare!" yelled Lisa, with her heart in her mouth. "That's mine!"

"Not any more."

Lisa felt the bracelet slacken around her wrist as Karen unhooked it. She tried to wriggle free and pull her arm back, before the girl could take the little silver chain away from her arm, but Hazel's grip was too firm and held her tightly in place.

"You see, Lisa, we aren't all equal in Arklay High," continued Karen, still smiling pleasantly. "You see, there are people like Adrian and Connor, Will, Marshall, Sharon, and the twins. The ordinary people. And then on top of those huddled masses, you have people like me and the girls here. The popular ones. Now, the ordinary people admire us so much, they're happy for us to be above them and call the shots, because they know that's how things work in this fine country of ours. But we're fair, so when a new girl arrives, we give them a chance to improve their social prospects - maybe even join us at the top of the heap one day. Unfortunately for you, you blew it. And you know where unpopular kids end up, don't you? Right at the bottom of the social order."

"We're the leaders of the pack, Lisa," Hazel said. "And leadership is all about keeping order and resolving little disputes like these before they get out of hand."

Leticia stopped filing her nails.

"Yeah. It's called arbitration," she said. "Which means we have the final say, and when we tell you to do something, you have to do it. Understand?"

"You can't tell me what to do!" said Lisa defiantly. "Now give it back! Or I'll - I'll _take_ it back!"

"I think you need a little reminder of where your place is, new girl," said Hazel, and kicked her sharply in the back of the knee.

_In the dirt_, Lisa remembered Russell saying at the skating contest, as she felt her legs buckle beneath her. A throbbing ache was already spreading through the back of her knee. She gritted her teeth, trying to ignore the pain.

Before she could try to stand up, Hazel dragged her to her feet by one arm and wrenched her other arm behind her back once more. Lisa struggled violently again, but in vain, and could only watch in helplessness and anger as Karen put on her beloved charm bracelet and fastened the catch around her wrist. She examined the fit, and gave Lisa a bright, satisfied smile.

"There. It looks better on me, don't you think? Now, what was it you said earlier about not wanting to hand it over? That you'd rather stick pins in your eyes?"

Lisa's eyes widened.

_No. Surely not. Surely they wouldn't -_

"Sadly, we're fresh out of pins. Leticia left her embroidery at home today. But we'd really hate for you to break your word like that, so I'm sure we can think of something."

"How about this?" said Hazel.

She brought her knee up into the small of Lisa's back and gave her a sharp shove forward. As Lisa toppled forwards, she found her wrists released - just a second too late for her to put her hands out and break her fall. She cried out as she landed on the bathroom floor face-first, her cheek and jaw connecting hard with the damp ceramic tiles. Pain radiated through the left side of her face where she'd fallen. She felt tears start to sting her eyes.

"Oh dear," said Leticia, in a poor attempt at feigning concern. "Looks like you fell down. Clumsy. Here, let me _help you up_…"

Lisa shrieked as the girl grabbed her by her hair and threw her against one of the cubicles, slamming the door back on its hinges. She almost slipped on the wet floor as she staggered backwards into the cubicle, trying to get away.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she yelled, trying to struggle to her feet. "I already told you I didn't want anything to do with you or your stupid popularity contest! Why don't you leave me alone?"

"You just don't get it, do you, uptown brat?" said Leticia, looking down at her with contempt. "It's about time you wised up and learned who's in charge around here. And next time Karen says something to you, maybe you ought to be a little more respectful instead of trying to copy that smart-ass Brit _bitch_ and pretending you're important. You're nobody. You're _nothing_. Remember that."

Lisa wiped her mouth. Her lip was bleeding; she must have cut it open when she hit the floor. She felt sick at the taste. It reminded her of the smell, and everything that she'd seen go with it.

"Do you usually do this to people you want respect from?" she said, when she'd got her breath back. "Threaten them? Push them around? Steal from them?"

"Oh, poor you, losing your little bracelet," taunted Karen. "If you really cared about it, then you'd put up a fight for it. But you're not going to, are you? You're a nice, shy little mouse from uptown and you don't get in trouble. You've probably never raised your hand to anyone in your life. What are you going to do? Run off and cry? Tell the teacher? Maybe you - "

With a speed and reaction that hardly seemed her own, Lisa threw herself at Karen with a scream and brought her crashing to the floor. Before shock had any chance to reach the girl's face, Lisa struck her across the head and shoulders, then grabbed a fistful of Karen's hair and pulled until she heard her yowl with pain.

"You think you know me?" Lisa snarled. "You know nothing about me! You don't know what I've fought for! You don't know what I've seen! What I've had to do!"

She snatched at Karen's hand and fumbled for the bracelet's catch, trying to pull it from her wrist before her stunned retinue could come to their senses and intervene.

"Get off me, you little bitch!" Karen bellowed.

"You think you can take what you like from me?" Lisa hissed back furiously. "Well, you're wrong! I'm not the pushover you think I am! This is mine and I'm getting it back!"

Karen brought up her other hand and slapped her across the face. Without a pause, Lisa slapped her back, so hard that the palm of her hand started to sting. The girl screamed in outrage and tried to claw at her arm, but it was too late. The catch had come open and Lisa had managed to pull the bracelet off her.

Breathing hard, Lisa scrambled to her feet and made a dash for the door. She was a fraction of a second too late. The other two girls, furious, grabbed her by her shoulders and pushing her up against the wall.

"Who the hell do you think you are, uptown bitch?"

"Didn't we warn you already not to mess with us?"

"Big mistake!"

Lisa caught a blow to the side of her head from Leticia before she managed to wrench herself free. She raked her fingernails down Leticia's face in retaliation and, before Hazel could get in the next strike, elbowed her sharply in the space just below her ribs, leaving the girl bent double and wheezing. With Hazel winded and Leticia's shrieks still echoing in the tiled space, she made another attempt to run.

"Oh, no, you don't!"

Leticia managed to grab her again from behind, hauling her back by her hair, and punched Lisa in the stomach. Lisa saw only a glimpse of the long, pink scratch-marks and the look of wicked triumph on the girl's face before she folded up on the floor, coughing and retching.

"What do you think, Karen? Has she had enough?" said Leticia, over her head.

"I don't think so," she heard Karen say. "We haven't made her say sorry yet."

Lisa was still gasping for breath when Leticia and Karen grabbed her by her hair and shoulders and hauled her to her feet.

"Nice try," said Leticia. "But you're going to pay for that! Now, what do you have to say? Any apologies?"

Lisa gulped down some air.

"I'll - I'll _never_ say… sorry… to _her_…."

"Wrong answer, bitch!" yelled Leticia, and drew back her fist.

Lisa screwed her eyes shut. She was expecting the punch, but when it came, it was even worse than she'd expected. It collided with her jaw and the flash of unbearable pain behind her eyes forced them wide open. Tears spilled out and down her cheeks.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did that hurt? We'll try again!" Leticia yelled. "What do you have to say?"

Lisa clutched the bracelet tighter in her palm, until the sharp edges of the charms dug into her flesh.

"Nothing!"

This time the punch came to the other side of her face, hitting her in the cheekbone and the side of her nose. Lisa cried out and felt the taste of blood again, in the back of her throat. Her nose was streaming, but whether it was blood, snot or tears, she couldn't tell.

"All you have to do is apologise, Lisa," said Karen. Her voice was calm amid the chaos. "Say it, and it'll be over. I keep the bracelet, and you get to show Eleanor what a rebel you were for trying to stand up to us. She'll like that. She might even learn that it's not a good idea to do what you did. You could save her a lot of trouble in future. What do you say?"

Lisa was swaying, almost whimpering from the pain in her face, but only one answer presented itself.

"_You can rot in hell and die!"_

Enraged, Leticia struck her across the face, fingernails raking across her cheek in the wake of the blow. Lisa saw Hazel push herself up from the floor, gasping, and then she joined in, raining punches on Lisa's head, shoulders and chest and kicking her until the only thing she could feel, right through her body, was pain. The world was starting to swim and darken, and she could hardly breathe from the pain in her ribs.

They let her go, suddenly, and let her reel backwards across the room, trying to catch her balance.

"I bet you're sorry now," said Leticia, laughing, giving her another push. "Are you? You look pretty sorry to me! What do you think, Karri? Hazel? Has she had enough?"

"One more," said Karen. "For luck."

_Help. Why hadn't she yelled for help? Someone must have heard the commotion… wasn't anyone coming to see what had happened to her?_

Lisa turned and opened her mouth to call for help, but then Leticia grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head against the nearest hand-dryer. There was a terrible sound, a flash of pain and cold metal, and then she blacked out.


	12. The Science Of Revenge

**12: The Science of Revenge**

Lisa didn't know where she was. She'd been somewhere warm and dark, far away, fast asleep. Now there was something solid beneath her. A hard surface, cold and clammy. It smelled of urine and bleach.

She managed to open her eyes, slowly and with great effort. The world swam back into view but immediately started to spin as she raised her head. She had to close her eyes again and lie back down to stave off the dizziness.

She hurt. Everything hurt. Her chest ached, as though she'd been kicked and trodden on. Her jaw stung, terribly. There was a dull pain in the side of her head, and something dry encrusted around her nose and mouth. She could taste blood on her lips.

Her eyelids fluttered open again and she coughed, trying to get breath back into her body.

She was on the floor of the girls' bathroom, lying on her side. She wasn't sure how long she'd been there. It was still light outside, from what she could see through the windows, but the greyness outside was of little assistance. It could have been any time of day.

Lisa raised her left wrist to look at her watch. It had stopped just after half past eleven, with the hands frozen mid-tick. The glass above the dial had cracked from edge to edge, smashed almost to pieces.

She had no idea how long she'd been out cold. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Why hadn't anybody come looking for her?

She tried to raise herself up on her elbows, so she could struggle to her feet, but her arms collapsed underneath her. Weak with bruises, she gave up and lay staring at the wall, waiting for the world to stop spinning.

Instead, she heard footsteps. Quiet at first, then loud and quick; the next thing she knew, she heard a familiar voice call out and a pair of battered Army boots with mismatched neon shoelaces came thumping into view, clattering on the tiled floor.

"Lisa!"

Someone rolled her over, and she found herself looking up into Ellie's horrified face.

"Bloody hell," she said quietly. "What happened?"

At first, Lisa couldn't remember how she'd found herself here, but then recollection hit home and everything came rushing back, all at once.

"Karen," she groaned, through bloody lips. "She - she…"

She sat up, or tried to. Her head was still spinning. She almost slumped back again, but Ellie caught her just in time. She put her arms under Lisa's head and shoulders, to support her weight, and helped her up into a sitting position.

"Easy now. Looks like you had a nasty bump."

"The dryer - I - I hit my head…"

"All right. Just sit here for a second. Get your breath back. Do you want me to go and fetch the nurse?"

"No," said Lisa shakily. "No. I need to find Karen, she - "

Her stomach lurched and bile rose up in her throat. She swallowed, fighting it back down, then took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself. Her knuckles, already clenched, tightened a little further. She'd been holding onto her bracelet, that precious remnant of her old life, tightly, as hard as she'd fought for it, so hard that it -

Something was wrong. She opened her hand, first puzzled by what she'd felt, but her confusion and alarm grew as she realised what was missing. There were little pink welts where some of the charms had dug into her palm, but the bracelet was gone. All she could see were the marks it had left behind.

"No!"

She struggled up to her feet, looking in dismay around the room and the spot where she'd fallen. She could feel her chest tightening, and her heartbeat thumping in her head. It was nowhere in sight. And then realisation dawned.

Ellie had to catch her as her legs gave way beneath her.

"They took it! Ellie, they took it! It's gone!"

"What are you talking about? What's gone?"

"Karen and the others found me in here and ganged up on me! They took my bracelet! I fought them off and managed to get it back somehow, but they grabbed me before I could get out, and then... I don't really know what happened next, I just remember hitting my head. They must have taken it when I blacked out!"

"Did they take anything else?"

"No, I don't think so - "

Lisa looked and saw her backpack, still sitting next to the row of stained washbasins, where she'd left it. She scrambled over to the backpack, on all fours, and opened it. Her school books and stationery were all there, intact, and her wallet had been left untouched.

"No," she repeated. "Everything else is here."

"All right. Let's get you cleaned up. We need to get you back to class. Mrs B sent me looking for you when you didn't show up for the first ten minutes."

Lisa looked at her, suddenly terrified.

"The _first _ten minutes? How long was I out?"

"I don't know, but it's been at least a quarter of an hour since we last saw you. I think I'd better take you to the nurse. If you've been unconscious all that time then you really ought to get your head looked at."

"No, I'm fine," insisted Lisa. "I have to find Karen!"

"Well, it's your head. I tried. Let's at least get the blood off your face first."

Lisa felt the side of her head gingerly. It still hurt, but there didn't seem to be any cuts or open wounds, despite the pain.

"Is there much?"

"Only a bit. I think you cut your mouth when you fell. Come on, up you get. Let's get you sorted out."

She helped Lisa to her feet and led her over to the sink. Lisa let her turn the faucet, and stared at her unhappy reflection in the mirror while Ellie fussed over her cut lip. There were a few raised pink scratches and scrapes across her face, and some sore patches on her jaw and cheeks where she'd been hit. The bruising would come later, gradually taking on purple-grey tones as it worked its way up through the skin, but for now they still felt more painful than they looked.

_Dazed and contused,_ she thought, trying to smile, but her stinging lip put paid to the attempt at humour.

"Ow," she said out loud.

"Sorry," said Ellie, who was still dabbing at her lip with some wadded-up tissue.

"It's okay. Not your fault."

"All right. Just try and stay still. I'm nearly finished."

Lisa tried not to move as Ellie cleaned the blood from her face. When Ellie announced that she was done and went to discard the used tissue, Lisa straightened up and adjusted her hair and clothes. There were some tiny spots of blood on the fabric of her collar, perhaps from her lip, although she hoped, secretly, that it might have belonged to one of the other girls.

She twitched the blouse's collar back into position - then stopped, and felt at her neck. There should have been a fine chain there, beneath her shirt, with Jack's mother's wedding ring resting against her chest. Her breath caught in her throat.

_Oh no. No, no, no! Not on top of everything else!_

Ellie turned around.

"You all right?"

Lisa felt for the ring again, but it wasn't where it should have been. She frantically patted the front of her shirt, hoping it had just been pulled loose in the struggle, but it wasn't lodged down her front, either. She dropped to all fours and started crawling across the tiles, searching in quiet, growing desperation for a flash of plain gold in the light.

Ellie looked puzzled.

"What on earth are you doing?"

"Ellie?" said Lisa, her panic rising with the pitch of her voice. "I'm missing something else! Jack gave me something this morning - a little gold ring, on a chain! I was wearing it around my neck when I came in here and now it's gone!"

Ellie's puzzlement became a frown.

"You sure it isn't still on you somewhere? I know it sounds silly, but I thought I'd lost my skull necklace in school once, the one my friend Natalie gave me. It broke when we were playing netball and I only found it later when I was changing and it dropped out of my sleeve. It's not down the front of your shirt or anything, is it?"

"No, no, I checked! It isn't! Please help me look for it, I _have _to find it!"

"All right, keep calm. We'll find it. It can't have gone far."

But the ring was nowhere to be found, despite a careful search of the room. Ellie picked herself up and helped Lisa up to her feet.

"Well, it's not here. Are you sure you still had it on when you and Karen started scrapping?"

"Yes! But if it's not here - oh no, they must have taken it too! How am I going to tell Jack? He only gave it to me this morning! What am I going to do?"

Ellie grabbed Lisa by her shoulders as her voice rose to a hysterical peak.

"Look, if they've got your things, then we'll get them back," she told Lisa. "The important thing is to stay calm! Getting yourself worked up into a frenzy isn't going to help!"

Lisa started to cry.

"Oh," said Ellie, her face suddenly softening. "Oh, hey, come on. No need for that. We'll get it back, all right?"

She gave Lisa a hug and held onto her for a moment or two.

"Come on. I know it's awful, but it's not the end of the world. What they did to you was much worse than losing a bit of jewellery. They could have put you in the hospital if they'd whacked you a bit harder on the head. Maybe even killed you. Look on the bright side. You're still here, and now you've got me to help you. We'll sort this out."

"You think so?"

"No. It's an incontrovertible fact. If you don't have those things back by the end of the day, I'm not Eleanor Charlotte Anne Josephine Johnson. And I am. More's the pity."

"All of those?"

"Unfortunately, yes. I think my parents went a bit berserk with the baby names book. Dad said Mum wanted to tack on a few more but he managed to stop her before she could do any real damage."

Lisa imagined Ellie's father running away with a book of baby names, trying to hide it, with her indignant mother in pursuit. It wasn't a difficult thing to picture. She remembered her father jokingly saying once that madness was hereditary - parents got it from their kids.

"I was going to be an Alice, too, but they saved that for Ginny instead," said Ellie conversationally. "Thank goodness they did. Imagine trying to fit that lot on a name-tape. I was nearly the only kid in school with "please see overleaf" sewn in the back of their jumper. So how about you? Did you escape, or do you have some random, embarrassing middle name I don't know about?"

It seemed she was trying to take Lisa's mind off things by talking about things that didn't matter much. It was slightly irritating, knowing why she was doing it, but at the same time, Lisa found herself pathetically grateful for any kind of distraction from her predicament.

"Not really..." she mumbled.

Ellie grinned.

"What is it? Ethel? Brynhilda? Ermintrude?"

"It's definitely not Ermintrude."

"Go on, you can tell me. I promise I won't laugh. Really."

"Honestly, it's nothing special. Just Angela."

"Ha! I should have known! You're so damned _nice_," said Ellie, but then something occurred to her, and she corrected herself to add:

"Well, that is, when you're not knocking seven bells out of three bigger girls at once. I did wonder why they tramped into Geography looking like they'd been fighting cats in a bag. You really did all that on your own?"

Lisa wiped her eyes and nodded.

"Gosh," said Ellie, both startled and impressed. "Remind me never to get into your bad books. Anyway, we'd better get you back to class before we're both missed. Keep your chin up, all right? And try not to wallop Karen in the face when you see her. Jake's got a bit of an on-off thing with her. He might take exception to you spoiling his trophy girlfriend's good looks… or lack thereof."

"Okay," said Lisa.

She retrieved her backpack and followed Ellie back to the classroom. Her head and chest were throbbing with pain, but all she could think about was what had just happened.

She'd never been beaten up before. She'd been picked on and ridiculed, yes, but physical violence was a first. Even zombies and monsters hadn't managed to hurt her, and yet she'd been overpowered and viciously beaten by a couple of unarmed high-school girls. She felt shaken, sick, and angry at her own humiliation, but uppermost in her mind was worry about what she was going to do next. She was late for class, and bound to be in trouble.

"Ellie?" she said, looking over at her friend. "What if Mrs Blumenthal yells at me for being late? What should I say?"

"Say you slipped and fell, and hit your head. It's true, isn't it? And you look enough of a mess."

"Thanks…"

"I _meant_ you look hurt enough for your version of events to ring true," said Ellie, sighing. "She can't really argue with a cut lip and bruises. And there's no-one else who can dispute what happened. Karen and the Atomic Blondes are hardly going to contradict your story and admit to beating you to a pulp, are they?"

"No, I guess not. Did they say anything?"

"Not a word. Thanks to your efforts they just swanned in looking like they'd been dragged through a hedge backwards. Not that that's different from any other day, mind you."

Lisa attempted to smile, but remembered her cut lip again and thought better of it.

"Wait," she said suddenly. "What am I going to say, if I claim this was an accident? Won't Mrs Blumenthal ask how they got my stuff in the first place?"

There was an awkward pause.

"Ah," said Ellie, sucking her breath in between her teeth. "That's a point. Perhaps you'd better have a quiet word after class and tell Mrs B what they really did to you."

"She'll still ask what happened in front of everybody when I come back to class," Lisa pointed out. "And I can't exactly change my story afterwards. She'll think I'm a liar."

"In that case, tell Mrs B exactly what happened and confront Karen in front of everybody. Ask her which charms are on it, who gave it to her, things like that. Stuff she won't be able to answer."

"She knows where I got it," said Lisa miserably. "She asked me in Art class and I told her it was from Dearheart's. And she must have had chance to get a good look at it by now. She'll probably lie and say it's hers, and I won't have any way to prove her wrong. And if the girls back her up, then I'm going to look like a liar who started the fight in the first place."

"And I bet Mrs B'll believe the manipulative little hussies, too," said Ellie. "Oh dear. We do have a bit of a problem. But don't worry, we'll think of something."

"We have to," said Lisa, biting her upper lip to stop the tears from coming back. "I _can't _let her keep them. That ring belonged to Jack's mother and she died when he was little. If he finds out I lost it - don't tell him, Ellie! You can't! You mustn't! He'd be so upset! Promise me you won't tell!"

"It's okay, I won't say anything. But I'm not a very good liar, so we need to get those things back before he notices they're gone. We'll have to do it when he's not looking."

They stopped outside the classroom door.

"How?"

"I don't know," said Ellie. She reached for the door handle. "Let me have a think about it in class. When I come up with something, I'll slip you a note."

"And what if you can't come up with something?" said Lisa.

"Oh, I _always _come up with something," said Ellie loftily. "Don't you worry about that. Now look really injured and try not to say anything."

She opened the door and went in. Lisa followed closely behind her, trying to make herself as small and unobtrusive as possible. She hoped that nobody would notice, or, if they did, that they wouldn't draw any attention to her entrance. But, to her dismay, Mrs Blumenthal turned around from the chalkboard and gave her a sharp look.

"Lisa, where have you been?" she said. "This class started almost twenty minutes ago. You're late."

People turned to look, and there were some whispers and giggles. Lisa flushed with embarrassment. She wanted to slink back to her desk, but the teacher was still staring at her, demanding an explanation.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Blumenthal," she murmured. "It won't happen again."

"Where on earth have you been?" Mrs Blumenthal demanded to know. "What - what happened to your face? Have you been in a fight?"

"I…"

Lisa stopped, with her mouth open and her heart beating hard. How could she respond? Lying would be too obvious, and the unvarnished truth would cause too many problems. Should she give a vague answer, which would only beg more uncomfortable questions, or would she have to twist the truth until it screamed?

"Well?"

"I, uh, went to the bathroom after Art class, and I - I slipped," Lisa said, realising immediately how pathetic it sounded. "The floor was wet, near one of the washbasins. I think I must have hit my head on something when I fell, because that's all I remember before Ellie came and found me."

"You slipped and fell?" repeated the teacher, frowning.

"It's true, Mrs B," said Ellie. She was already settled and sitting at her desk. "She'd been out cold for a while when I found her. I had to stay with her for a bit until she was okay to come back to class. She said she was feeling dizzy."

"Why didn't you take her to the nurse's office, Ellie?" said Mrs Blumenthal, with a hint of impatience in her voice.

"I did offer, but she said she was okay and wanted to get back to class."

"Are you sure you're all right, Lisa?" said the teacher, shifting her attention back to Lisa. She looked more concerned now than irate. "If you hit your head, you should go and see the nurse so she can take a look at you. Head injuries can be very serious. You might have concussion."

Everyone was staring at Lisa now. She didn't like the way that a couple of the girls were looking at her and whispering. She wondered what hypothesis they'd come up with to explain her absence, and how far it might already have spread.

"I'm fine, really," she lied.

"All right. Go and sit down. But if you have any headaches, nausea, or altered vision, anything like that, then tell me immediately."

"Yes, ma'am, I will."

Lisa went back to her desk. As she passed the second row of students, Hannah turned to murmur something to Andrea, who glanced up at her, then turned back, giggling.

And then she saw Karen. The girl looked up, apparently all sweetness and light, but then she raised her wrist and smirked. Sure enough, there was the charm bracelet, shining silver in the classroom light. She saw a small glimpse of metal chain around her neck, too, which she was sure hadn't been there before.

"You like my new bracelet, Lisa?" said Karen.

Lisa felt her hackles rising.

"It was nicer when it was mine," she said, but quietly, so only she and Karen could hear. "I think you should give it back. And that other thing you took from me."

Karen affected a look of innocent confusion. Butter wouldn't have melted in her little mouth. Lisa knew that this was because she would have had to spit out the lies first to make room - but it was a good look, all the same. It might have fooled someone who didn't know better.

"What thing would that be?"

Lisa leaned in closer to her.

"You _know_ what you took from me," she said, into the girl's ear. "The necklace. The one with the gold ring on it."

"Oh - you mean this?"

Karen picked up the chain with her fingertip and lifted it up slightly, so Lisa could see the ring dangling from it.

"No," she said softly. "I'm sorry, Lisa. Finders keepers. And I kind of like it. What, it wasn't your wedding ring from your boyfriend, was it? Are you two getting married? Are you going to be Mrs Carpenter, or whatever his ridiculous last name is?"

Lisa clenched her fists at her sides.

"Shut up and give it back, or Mrs Blumenthal finds out what really happened! I'll tell her everything!"

"We don't tattle-tale here, Lisa, this isn't _kindergarten_," Karen retorted. "And I bet you wouldn't want him knowing that you lost your wedding ring already. Unless you'd rather I told him for you? Is that it? Are you bored of him? Well, he's kind of cute for a dumb skater kid. Perhaps I could take him off your hands."

Lisa didn't dare say another word, for fear of provoking a response that might make her want to lose it completely and punch the girl full in the face. Instead, she stormed off and almost threw herself back into her seat at her own desk. The chair scraped back an inch across the floor with a squeak that made a few people on either side cringe.

"Lise?" said Jack, in a whisper. He looked alarmed at the sight of her. "What happen to you, _chica_? You… you dint just fall, did you?"

Lisa swallowed.

"No," she said, in a low voice, so the people nearby couldn't overhear them. "I got in a fight with Karen and two of the other girls while I was in the bathroom. They smacked me against something - I think it was one of the hand-dryers - and I blacked out. Ellie found me out cold on the floor."

"Oh, shit. You okay?"

"My head hurts, where I hit it, but I think I'm all right. I must be covered in bruises, though. I don't think there's a single bit of me that doesn't hurt."

"What'd you say to 'em, Lise? Must've been real bad, I never thought I'd see you in a fight…"

"Karen and I had a little disagreement over something in Art class. She decided she wasn't about to let it go, so she and two of the others thought they'd teach me a lesson."

"That why they came in earlier lookin' ruffled up all to hell? Lucky they be girls, or I make 'em pay for messin' with you, Lise. You sure you gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine, Jack. Don't worry about me. I'll get them back somehow."

She unpacked her books and pens, then, hearing more whispering from one of the rows ahead, looked up. Karen was busy gossiping with the girls on either side of her. Hazel must have realised that Lisa was looking at them, because she threw a look over her shoulder at her, then leaned over to whisper something to Karen, who whispered it in turn to Carla.

Lisa half-rose from her seat, her fingernails digging into her palms. She'd show Karen. She'd get her bracelet back, and Jack's ring. And when she did, she'd teach that arrogant, manipulative bully a lesson. She'd pull her hair out in clumps, hurt and humiliate her every way she could, and then she'd start on sneering Hazel, and spiteful Leticia, and repay each and every blow they'd dealt her until they were blue with bruises. She'd make them wish they'd never messed with her, the zombie survivor of Raccoon City!

Leticia had noticed her expression. She turned round a little more in her seat, and mouthed something which made Hazel dissolve into quiet, mocking laughter.

Lisa's fists clenched a little tighter.

"Ellie?" she whispered across to her, at the next desk. "Do you still have your pocketknife? The Swiss Army one?"

"Yes, as it happens. Why? What do you want it for?"

Ellie must have seen something in her eyes that betrayed her thoughts. Her questioning look turned to one of disapproval.

"Oh, no you don't," she warned. "You'll do nothing of the sort. Don't even think about it."

"Did you hear what she _said _to me as I came in? I swear to God, if she doesn't hand it over, I'll - "

"Look, I know you're upset, but they're trying to get you riled so you'll do something stupid. Just keep calm and let me come up with a plan. Preferably one which doesn't you involve ending up in another scrap and lopping someone's hand off by accident! You're better than that."

"But - "

"Sit tight for now. We'll fix this. And them."

Lisa sat down again and stared ahead at the girls, fuming and afraid. She was trembling all over.

_I know she's right about keeping a cool head, but am I really better than that? Look what I did in Raccoon City. I careered around town with Jack in a stolen car, running down and shooting people I used to walk past in the street every day. I made Molotov cocktails to stay alive, took off a classmate's head with a table leg, and stabbed a ten-foot mutant in the eye with a letter-opener. I even killed my own parents, the day after my birthday. What kind of daughter kills her own parents? What kind of monster did I have to become to survive?_

… _what does that make me now_?

Lisa felt ashamed, suddenly, of the savagery of her earlier thoughts, born though they were of desperation. That surge of primal anger, that ancient instinct of "fight, kill, win, or die", was something she'd drawn on to stay alive and escape the hell that had once been her hometown, but she knew her friend was right. That mindset would now only serve to drive her deeper into her predicament. She needed a different survival strategy for civilisation's subtler cruelties, where words did the kind of damage bullets never could.

The knowledge extinguished some of her anger, at least for now; however, it did little to calm her anxiety. She spent the rest of the class in a state of constant alertness, her head bobbing up anxiously every time someone coughed or spoke. There seemed to be no opportunity to get up and scout around Karen's desk for some way to snatch back what was hers without the girl noticing.

Worse still, Ellie seemed to have forgotten all about coming up with a plan to recover the stolen items. Lisa kept waiting for her to stop, grin suddenly, and scribble down some devious method of retrieval on a scrap of paper, but every time she turned to look, the girl appeared to be engrossed in her work.

By the time Geography class ended, Lisa was not only none the wiser about glaciation and what it did to the surrounding landscape, but agitated almost to the verge of hysteria.

She grabbed Ellie's shoulder.

"I can't take it any more. I'm going to have to tell Mrs Blumenthal. I thought you had a plan!"

"I thought you said she wouldn't believe you if you changed your story?" said Ellie.

"Do you have a better idea?" Lisa wanted to know.

Ellie looked around the room, then dropped her voice.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I do. I've been watching Karen all lesson. We've got Religious Studies straight after lunch, but I don't think she's got her textbook. Look at the stuff that's on her desk right now. She's obviously forgotten it. That's why she's going through her bag to check."

Lisa craned her neck to look. The girl was rummaging through her pink backpack, looking for something.

"See?" Ellie whispered. "If it's not with her, then it must still be in her locker. She's going to have to go back for it soon. That'lll take her out into the hall, which is really busy at this time of day, so she won't be paying much attention to everyone else around her. Convenient, don't you think?"

"So what then? Do we get the jump on her and take it back, or say pretty please, or what?"

"Don't be daft. Threats aren't going to work. Two on four still leaves us outnumbered in a fight. And trying to appeal to Karen's better nature is pointless, because she doesn't have one. I do have one idea, though. It's a bit of a long shot, but it might work."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well, as I said, it's going to be busy outside in the corridor. I'm thinking if it's busy enough and she's distracted, maybe I can nick those things back for you. There was a girl from my old school who was a dab hand at that sort of thing. I'm no thief, but you don't sit next to Poppy Doyle for a year without learning a thing or two about keeping your valuables close - or getting them back when she got her grubby little paws on them."

"You mean she stole from you?"

"A couple of times. My wallet, my Walkman, things like that. Lucky I had the sense to pinch them straight back out of her coat pocket when she wasn't looking, or I'd have lost them for good. I wasn't going to let her get away with taking my stuff. So, what do you say? Want me to have a go at getting your things back? I can, if you want. I promise I'll be careful."

Lisa hesitated, unsure how to reply. She wanted, desperately, to have her things returned and see Karen get a taste of her own medicine, and it took some wrestling with her conscience before she made her decision.

"No," she said, a little reluctantly. "You could get into real trouble if that went wrong. I don't want you risking your neck trying to dig me out of this mess and ending up being dragged into it too. This whole thing was my own stupid fault, not yours. I'm the one who has to fix this."

"In that case, I suspect your options are going to be limited. Either you'll have to persuade Karen to hand it over - which is about as likely to work as a paper Jacuzzi - or you'll have to fight her for it. And don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think you're up to another fight. Look what she did to you the last time."

Lisa's shoulders sank in defeat.

"Then I don't have much choice, do I? I'm going to have to snitch on her. I really don't want to. I know what people will call me. But if it's the only way we can get those things back - "

"Hold on. Let's not be too hasty. Look, she's getting up. Why don't we follow her out and see what happens?"

"What about Jack?"

They looked over at him. He was busy putting his books away in his backpack, humming quietly to himself; he clearly hadn't heard a word of their conversation. Lisa and Ellie were wondering what to say to excuse themselves from his company when, without meaning to, Connor ambled over and gave them a helping hand.

"Hey, Jack," he said. "Someone said earlier you were pretty unbelievable in the basketball tryouts. Sorry I missed that. Want to come shoot some hoops with me? I could use the practice."

Jack looked up crossly at first, but when he seemed to realise that Connor had meant the remark as an innocent compliment, his face cleared, and he started to smile.

"Sure, why not? I, uh - "

He cast Lisa a questioning look. Lisa understood, and nodded.

"Go ahead, Jack. Ellie and I will be fine on our own. You two go off and have fun."

"Okay, _querida_. See you later, yeah?"

Lisa tried to hide her relief as Jack and Connor headed for the gymnasium, earnestly discussing basketball plays and how unfair the result of the tryouts had been.

"He's sweet, isn't he?" said Ellie, once they'd left the room. "The way he sort of asks permission to go off without you?"

"Don't look at me like that," said Lisa. "He doesn't have to. But he seems to think he needs to be by my side the whole time. Like I might break or disappear if he goes too far away from me, and he has to protect me."

"Does that bother you?"

"No. He's a sweet guy and I'm happy he wants to be with me so much. But if he feels like he can't do stuff on his own because he can't leave me alone for even a minute, I worry he might end up resenting me for it. I don't want him to hate me."

"Lisa, I don't think that boy could hate you if he tried."

"I love him," said Lisa, with feeling. "I really do. He's my whole world."

"I'd say you're his, too. Would that we were all so lucky."

"What, are you looking for a boyfriend?"

Ellie snorted.

"Here? Gosh, no. But it would be nice to think someone felt that way about me. Um. Well, you know. Someday," she said, a little awkwardly. "When I go back home to London, that is. Not here. Definitely not here."

"What about Connor?" said Lisa. "I think he likes you. He's always trying to look out for you. Like at the skate-off, when he was holding you back so you couldn't fight the boys."

Ellie looked startled.

"Connor? No, of course not. We're friends, I suppose, and he's a nice enough boy, but he's nice to everybody. He'd hold anyone back to stop them from getting hurt. I'm nothing special to him."

"And does that work both ways?"

"Oh, give over, will you?" said Ellie impatiently. "I'm not looking for a boyfriend, and certainly not one from this place. That's the end of the matter. And anyway, I thought we were supposed to be tailing Karen?"

Lisa gasped and looked over at the doorway. How could she have forgotten about Karen? Without another word, she swung her backpack onto her back and ran out of the room, with Ellie following closely behind.

"Where are they?" she said, panting.

"There," said Ellie, nodding down the length of the bustling corridor.

Karen and her usual group - Hazel, Beverley, Leticia, plus the adoring hangers-on who didn't quite live up to their beautiful blonde idols - were standing around outside Karen's locker and talking loudly enough to be heard even from a distance.

"… well you know what, it was too good for her," came Beverley's voice, as sharp as a sour lemon. "Who does she think she is, anyway?"

"Yeah," said Hannah, giggling a little too loudly. "Who's dumb enough to do _that_?"

"She disgusts me. I don't know what's worse, her attitude or her ugly hair," said Hazel scornfully.

"And I hate her shoes. She dresses like a boy."

"I think she shares her wardrobe with her boyfriend."

"Who does she live with, anyway? Him? Someone said they don't have parents. They died, or something."

"If I had a daughter who dressed like that, I would have died of shame!"

"You think they did?"

Lisa had guessed that they were talking about her, but that remark confirmed her suspicions. She stood very quietly and listened, trying to keep calm, but at the same time just waiting for them, _daring_ them to insult her one more time. All she needed was an excuse. Or even something that sounded like an excuse. Ellie was there, waiting by her shoulder, and in all likelihood she'd stop her before she could do any real damage, but there might still be a chance that she could get in a couple of swings before she was dragged away. Even one would be enough.

_No. Remember what Ellie said. She's right. And a wrong for a wrong isn't the way to fix this. I need to keep my head and think of a plan. A proper one which doesn't involve violence. If I screw this up, then my things are gone forever._

"Hey, you think they switched wardrobes and he wears _her _clothes?"

"I bet he does!"

There was a burst of loud, hysterical giggling.

"He's cute, though. Perhaps Karen will get her hands on him after all."

"After where he's been? You sure she still wants him?"

There was more shrill laughter.

"I thought you were going out with Jake again, Karen?" said Hannah.

"Oh, please! That's completely not happening! She's _so _over him," said Hazel, with a sniff.

"Yeah, like she'd ever take him back after he ditched her to go to that party over at the Bascaulet twins' place!" said Leticia.

"Why? What happened?" said Andrea, eyes wide with curiosity.

"They'd invited some red-haired skank over and I heard she and Jake went upstairs together," said Beverley darkly.

The three lesser members of the group gave little squeals of dismay.

"Oh my God! They so didn't!"

"I don't believe it!"

"How _could _he?"

"What was he thinking?"

"Whatever," said Karen rudely, interrupting them and pulling away. "Like I care about that jerk anyway. Come on, let's go get lunch."

"What are you going to do with that bracelet?" said Hazel. "Are you really going to keep that thing?"

Karen just laughed.

"Oh please! You are kidding me, right? Dearheart's was full of cheap junk. I wouldn't have been seen dead in their stuff. I should put it down the drain just to watch her chubby little face fall…"

Lisa lunged forwards, all self-control forgotten in her rage, but Ellie stuck out an arm and blocked her way before she could fling herself at them.

"Stop it," she whispered in Lisa's ear. "They know you're listening. Carla just looked at you and laughed, didn't you notice? Let them talk. Once they've got their backs turned, we'll make our next move. You can bump into Karen and while she's distracted, I'll get behind her and undo the clasp on that chain. I can scoop it up from the floor while she's yelling at you and run off with it. When she comes after me, I'll get her round the corner, somewhere out of sight, then you and I can take her down and get that bracelet off her."

Lisa could feel her heart pounding.

"That's the only plan we've got?"

"Better than no plan at all. You in?"

"You bet I'm in. I want my stuff back."

"… trashy, ugly thing anyway," Leticia was saying to Karen. "I don't know why anyone would wear something like that."

"Just ditch it in your locker, Karen," Beverley suggested. "You can figure out what to do with it later. Maybe you could give it to your little sister to play with or something."

"I don't think so," said Karen scathingly. "Laurie may be five but she still has _some_ taste, Beverley."

"Come on, let's go! They're going to run out of Jell-O pudding again if we don't hurry up," Andrea whined.

"God, Andrea, you're so _chub_," sneered Leticia. "Keep eating pudding and you'll look like that fat little Hartley girl! You really need to go on a diet. What are you now, a six? An eight?"

"Four," said Andrea, suddenly looking hurt.

"Not for long, if you keep eating pudding," said Leticia, giving the girl a sharp jab in the side.

"Can we just go already?" complained Hazel, with her hands on her hips.

"Yeah, let's get out of here…"

The girls melted back into the crowd and went along with the flow of people to the cafeteria, still bitching, gossiping and giggling. Only Karen remained behind. She looked straight at Lisa this time, meeting her stare halfway, then smirked.

"Oh, you still want your bracelet back? And your boyfriend's wedding ring? Well, they may be trash, compared to the stuff I wear, but they're still too nice for a nobody like you. No, I think I'm going to put them away for a little while, until I decide what to do with them."

She undid the clasp and tossed the bracelet into the open locker, then ripped the chain from around her neck and flung Jack's ring in after it. Lisa gave a scream and ran towards the locker, but before she could reach it, Karen slammed the locker shut and walked away, laughing, as Lisa flung herself at the door a second too late.

"Too slow," she called, over her shoulder. "Too bad!"

With a shriek, Lisa pulled at the locker door, then pounded on it with both hands, wailing curses at the top of her voice. Battered though it was, the door withstood blows, kicks, and relentless pounding, and remained stubbornly shut in the face of everything Lisa could throw at it.

After a few minutes she gave up and slumped against the door, defeated.

"That _bitch!_ She knows I won't be able to get it back now! What am I going to tell Jack?"

"Ah-ah-ah," warned Ellie. "Don't give up that easily. We can get this thing open."

"How?" said Lisa, near tears again. "No combination… no key…"

"… no problem. Most of these things don't even have combinations any more. They'll open no matter what you put in. They've got locks as well, of course, but you know how it is. People lose the keys, or they jam up in the cold, or rust shut over the summer. Most days mine only opens if I give it a good kick in the right place."

Lisa looked at Ellie in surprise.

"Are they all broken?"

"Oh, no. I'd say about half of them. The rest were replaced a while back so they're quite secure. You and Jack both have new ones, so you've got nothing to worry about, but this one's fairly old. I think we can break into it all right."

An idea struck Lisa.

"Your pocketknife!" she said out loud. "You have a screwdriver on that thing, right? Can we get the door off the front?"

"Doubt it. The hinges are on the inside," said Ellie. "I have a better idea. She did us a favour and didn't bother resetting the combination before she walked off. That makes things a bit easier. Now, let's see - "

She dropped to her knees in front of the door and fumbled somewhere at the back of her head, then pulled something out from her frizzy, untidy ponytail.

"Aha! Knew I had a spare one somewhere."

"A bobby pin?"

Ellie looked up with interest.

"Oh, is that what they're called here? They're hairgrips back home. Anyway, here you are. You can get it open with this. Don't worry, I'll keep you covered."

Lisa took the bobby pin from her and crouched down in her place, while Ellie got up and stood in front of her. The hallway was emptying quickly and people were so preoccupied with getting to the cafeteria that nobody paid them any heed.

She straightened out the plain brown pin and inserted it into the door lock, feeling utterly foolish. She had no idea what she was doing. However, she tried picking away at it, turning the pin this way and that, with little success. The lock wouldn't budge, and after another minute or so she gave up.

Ellie looked at her with sympathy.

"Never picked a lock before?" she said.

"Of course not!"

"Neither did I before I came here. It takes practice. Here, let me have a go."

Ellie knelt beside her on the floor and Lisa meekly handed her the bobby pin. The girl tipped her head to one side, squinted a little, then straightened out the plain brown pin a little more and re-inserted it in the door's lock. With the tip of her tongue protruding from her mouth, she started to turn the pin one way, then another, jiggling it back and forth in the lock apparently at random.

"You do know what you're doing, don't you?" said Lisa.

"Oh, yes," said Ellie. "I used to have to do this to mine until I worked out where to kick it. I'll have it open soon, don't worry. Just cover my back and watch out for teachers!"

Lisa got up and shuffled in front of Ellie, hoping it didn't look too obvious that she was providing cover for someone quite unashamedly picking a lock. It seemed less than adequate, somehow. The corridor was all but empty now that the other students had gone out for lunch, which left them unobserved - however, without the crowd to shield them from view, they were also dangerously out in the open.

She waited with her heart in her mouth for about a minute and a half, listening to the soft muttered profanities behind her, until at last came a tiny click from the door and the sound of Ellie exhaling.

"_Ah_. There we go. I told you it would work! Right, let's crack her open…"

Lisa moved aside and they opened up the door. They immediately reeled back, stunned at the sight that met their eyes. The inside of Karen's locker was coated from top to bottom in pink paint and glitter, and extensively wallpapered with clippings from fashion and celebrity magazines. There were some personal pictures glued to the back, mostly holiday photos with family or Karen beaming with the rest of the cheerleading squad. One or two showed her hanging out with the rest of her well-dressed pack of fashion vultures, although, surprisingly, not quite as many as Lisa might have expected.

The icing on the cake, however, had to be the door. The entire length of the inside panel was covered with a poster of a famous male-model turned movie star, who was glistening with baby oil and posing in a indecently tiny pair of leopard-print Speedos.

"Goodness," said Lisa weakly. "That's a little… full-on."

"Good grief," was Ellie's rather more withering response. "For all that she carps on about fashion, she doesn't have much taste herself. All that pink, and that silly topless male model. It looks like the inside of Barbie's lavatory. Revolting. Who is he, anyway?"

"I think that's Jayden Chandler," said Lisa, pointedly averting her eyes from the door. She bent down to peer into the locker's darker recesses, looking for her lost jewellery amid the layers of clothes, books and make-up at the bottom of the locker.

"Who?"

"Ugh. You're lucky you've escaped without hearing about him for this long. He's one of those dumb teen idols who starts off in a sitcom, then does some modelling, then puts a few records out, then goes off to play the lead in a bunch of lame Hollywood romances. Julie and the other girls at school used to be obsessed with him. I don't know why."

Ellie looked down.

"Me neither," she said pointedly. "He doesn't look like much to write home about. All horrible plastic smile and oiled torso. And those ludicrous tiny underpants. Yuck."

"I never understood the fascination either. He's not that handsome. He isn't even a good actor. My mom was never fussy about her romantic comedies but even she said he was terrible. She used to call him the prettiest block of wood in pictures."

"I take it you were equally impressed," said Ellie.

Lisa shoved aside a pile of books, knocking it over.

"About as impressed as I was with Matt Black and all the other fake-tanned plastic idiots people worshipped in my old school. Which is to say, not very…"

"I can imagine. Have you found anything yet?"

Lisa was about to reply in the negative when she saw something catch the light, and grabbed hold of it. It was Jack's ring, still on its chain, but tangled up in a crumpled pink chiffon scarf.

"Yes," she cried out, delighted. She pulled it free of the scarf and shoved her prize into her pocket. The clasp had come away from the rest of the chain on one side, but that didn't matter. She could worry about fixing it later.

"How about your bracelet?"

"Still looking."

"Want some help?"

Lisa raised her eyebrows.

"I'd say knock yourself out, but that didn't work out so well for me. I can't say I'd recommend it."

"You've got your sense of humour back, then," said Ellie, with a chuckle, as she came to help. "They can't have hit you all that hard."

"Speak for yourself," said Lisa, as she balled up the chiffon scarf and threw it back into the locker.

Ellie commented once or twice on the amount of glittery pink trash that Karen had as they sifted through the debris at the bottom, but finally, just as they were about to give up, Lisa spied something silver caught on the edge of a book.

"There it is!"

She grabbed the bracelet and clutched it to her chest in silent thanks. She'd started to lose hope that she'd ever see it again. She counted the charms, one through to nine - they were all there, mercifully undamaged by their ordeal - and fastened the bracelet back around her wrist.

"Come on, we should get out of here before someone sees us," she said, getting up from her kneeling position on the floor.

Ellie grinned evilly.

"Not just yet," she said. "I think we should leave her a little parting gift…"

Lisa grabbed her arm.

"Ellie, no! She'll know we've been in here!"

"So? She'll know anyway when she works out the stuff's gone! It's hardly going to take detective work for her to realise what happened. And look at what she did to you. If someone had done that to me, I'd give them something to yell about and no mistake…"

"I suppose you have a point. What did you have in mind?"

"Something that'll make her scream from here to Evervale. Have you got a pen? Oh, wait, I've got one. Here we go. See what she thinks of this!"

She took the lid off and put pen to paper. Lisa watched, first struck dumb with horror, but her nervous giggles soon gave way to real laughter.

"Oh, that's cold! I love it!"

"Revenge is a dish best served cold, my dear," said Ellie, pausing briefly in her handiwork. "I keep mine refrigerated for best effect."

"I'm more of a "use within twenty-four hours" girl. It keeps things fresh," said Lisa. The mixture of terror and glee made her feel light-headed, almost drunk, but suddenly more daring than usual. "And the best part about revenge is that you can give people a nice generous helping."

She leaned over Ellie's shoulder to get a better view of what she was doing, and remarked:

"In this case, I'd say this serves at least one to four."

"Oh, they're getting served all right," said Ellie, and she made a few last-minute additions that made Lisa crease up with silent mirth. "There, what do you think?"

They stood back to admire Ellie's handiwork, both giddy with the exhilaration that came from laughing in the face of danger.

"Perfect. Come on, let's close it up before anyone sees!"

They slammed the locker shut and disappeared, giggling, down the corridor.

"Oh, this is going to be good. The look on her face will be priceless. _Priceless…_"

xxxxxxxxxx

It was the end of the lunch hour. Jack and Connor were making their way back from the gymnasium to class, still talking. Jack had been surprised how good Connor had been at basketball, and asked him why he hadn't tried out for the team.

"Oh, I'm not that great," the boy said bashfully. "I'm really not. Everybody says I'm too clumsy for team sports. Too heavy, too."

"I think you be pretty good," said Jack. "Dunt let 'em tell you you ain't. Maybe you should give it a try next year. Some more practice an' I think you could get real good."

"Not as good as you. Where'd you learn to play?"

"With my _amigos_, back home in Mexico. I live in Tijuana b'fore I come here with my aunt. Had a few people I used to play with when we be kids. Grew up together in the same neighbourhood. After that, I meet my _amigos_ in the Street Rats, in Raccoon City. When we weren't skatin' we used to play basketball on a half-court in Coburg, behind a bunch of back alleys. Couple of other gangs used to come over an' join us. Friendly guys, like the Sk8boarders and the PriMadonnas. They used to be rivals, you know, but we get along all right."

Connor looked at him with curiosity.

"So you were with the skater gangs?"

"Yeah. Street Rats just be a little gang. Dint used to be big players. Ain't sure if they be 'round durin' the gang wars but if so, then I guess we keep out of trouble for the most part. There used to be one guy who used to run with us, though, Romeo - he be a real piece of work. He used to shoplift, snatch bags from old ladies, stuff like that, but we kick him out 'cause we dint want him 'round us no more. He be half the reason we keep gettin' hauled off to the precinct by the cops. They dint like skaters much anyway, an' he used to make things worse for us."

"Did you ever get in trouble with the cops?"

"Couple of times. Never took much for us to get picked up. Sometimes somebody would say we broke somethin' when we dint, or they call the cops 'cause they dint like us hangin' round the streets. Or the uptown kids from my school would come round our neighbourhood an' start a fight, an' then the cops would come by afterwards to pick up anyone who dint run away fast enough, tell us we'd been causin' a disturbance, or whatever, an' take us downtown. Nothin' happen afterwards 'cept my aunt would come pick me up an' bawl me out for causin' her trouble."

"You lived with your aunt?"

"Yeah, my mom die an' my dad - uh, he ain't around. Aunt Rosa used to look after me till she die too. I only got Lise now."

"That's terrible. And then your whole town just… wow. You and Lisa must feel really lucky to have escaped that. I mean, all those people died, but you got out in time? That must be - "

Jack held up his hand, stopping the other boy in his tracks.

"Yeah, that ain't somethin' I wanna talk 'bout."

"Sorry," said Connor, blushing. "I guess it is pretty soon for you guys. Maybe some other time."

"So you always live here?" Jack said, changing topic quickly.

Connor brightened up.

"Yeah, my family and I are old-time Arklay folk. We've been here for years. Five generations, my dad says. I grew up with pretty much everyone else in school. The only people in the past few years to move here were Ellie and her family. We were pretty surprised when you and Lisa showed up. We hardly ever get people coming in from outside."

"I think a lot of people dint like it when we show up," said Jack.

Connor looked sympathetic.

"I don't think it's that. People here just don't really like change much. Mom says we're all kind of set in our ways up here. I don't think people like things that are different, or things they don't understand. Seems to scare them."

"Tell me 'bout it," Jack said under his breath.

Connor was about to change topic again when a shriek of rage echoed down the corridor, making them both jump.

"What was that?"

They hurried down the corridor, past the banks of lockers and kids struggling to get in to find their books, until they found the source of the commotion.

There was a little crowd of girls gathered around Karen's locker. Jack noted Andrea, Carla, Hannah, Hazel, Leticia and Beverley, who were whispering shocked comments to a few others, and last but not least, Karen. She was standing in front of the open door, mouth hanging open and her cheeks flushed an irate pink.

There was some laughter from a couple of passing boys.

"Nice poster, Karen!"

"Yeah, he's a real catch!"

Karen whipped around with a screech, but they had already disappeared into the throng of people heading for class.

Jack and Connor peeked over a ninth-grade girl's head to see what the fuss was about, and immediately started to laugh. There was a poster of some handsome teen idol stuck to the inside door, but someone had scrawled over it in thick black pen, adding a florid moustache and goatee, horns, vampire teeth, a pair of glasses, a frilly brassière and several extravagant tattoos. Mysteriously, there was also a speech bubble with some kind of motto written in it in block capitals.

"_Fugite fures fures omnes!_" Connor read out loud. "Is that Latin? What do you think it means?"

"Dunt ask me. I dunt speak Latin. I find English hard enough."

"But you're from Mexico, right? Isn't that why they call it Latin America? Don't they speak Latin there?"

Jack smiled.

"Nah, they dunt call it that 'cause we speak Latin. We dunt. I think they call it that 'cause -"

But he never got to finish his sentence, because he saw Lisa and Ellie approaching the crowd. They looked as inquisitive about the incident as he was, and craned their heads to look at Karen and the locker.

"What's going on?" said Lisa.

Karen whirled round once again, her face etched with fury.

"You! You did this, you little witch! You're going to pay for this!"

Lisa shrank back in fear, clutching Ellie's arm.

"No, I - "

"Liar!"

"She didn't, _actually_," said Ellie icily, stepping in front of Lisa. "She's been with me the whole time. I think I would have noticed if she'd been out here scribbling on that oily twit's pectorals. I may be short-sighted but I'm not bloody blind. How could she have got into your locker, anyway? She hasn't got the key. Or the combination."

"And I don't understand Latin," said Lisa, squinting to read the words in the speech bubble. "That is Latin, isn't it? It looks like it. What does it mean?"

"Hey, Amy," said a red-haired girl, giving her neighbour a nudge. "Your dad's a professor, right? Do you know what that means?"

"Fly all ye thieves," piped up a much younger girl with thick glasses and pigtails. "Dad used to teach Classics at Brown. He taught me some Latin when I was little. But yes, that's what it means. Fly all ye thieves."

Karen's mouth dropped open.

"My goodness me," said Ellie, with a perfectly deadpan expression. "How strange. I wonder what they meant by that?"

"Sounds like a warning to me," said Lisa, although the corners of her mouth seemed to be twitching upwards slightly. "You'd better be careful, Karen. Perhaps you've upset somebody you shouldn't have."

There were some soft murmurs as people started to whisper. Karen's face had drained of colour, save for one angry red blotch on each cheek. Her nostrils had flared and she was starting to tremble.

"This isn't over," she said. "I'm going to find out who did this!"

She slammed the locker door angrily behind her and marched off, with her followers right behind, all fussing and chirruping empty platitudes after her. Some of the audience watched her go, amused by the spectacle, then drifted away when it became apparent the show was over.

Lisa and Ellie seemed to have been holding something in, and when there was no-one left watching but Connor and Jack, they finally let it out, their careful poker faces exploding in peals of laughter.

"Did you see her face?"

"That was _amazing_!"

"What was all that about?" said Connor, still looking confused.

Lisa and Ellie stole a look at each other, and burst into giggles again.

"Private joke," said Ellie, once she'd regained control of herself. "I'll tell you what happened some other time."

"Lise?" Jack ventured.

Lisa shook her head, still laughing.

"No," she said. "Not now. We need to get to class. I'll tell you later…"

xxxxxxxxxx

Before they went back into the classroom, Lisa removed her bracelet and put it in the pocket of her jeans, so that Karen wouldn't see it and be able to accuse her of foul play. Once or twice she caught the girl looking suspiciously in her direction, but simply smiled and made a show of displaying her bare wrist whenever she put her hand up to answer a question.

That said, she was glad to get out of Religious Studies and into Biology, where Karen sat even further away and Mr Henderson made sure everyone stayed at their workbenches. Mr Henderson had commented briefly on her bruised face at the start of class and asked her if she was all right. He'd looked askance at her for a moment or two when she repeated her previous excuse, but eventually appeared to give her the benefit of the doubt and ordered her to her seat.

Biology was the final class of the day, and the week**. **They were studying the structure and cells of plants, examining slides under the microscope and then drawing and labelling diagrams. They'd been given a few different things to examine, including pollen, leaf fragments and bits of onion skin. It was interesting enough, but the minute hand still seemed to be dragging around the clock.

When three o'clock finally came, it was all Lisa could do not to cheer. All she wanted, right now, was to return home, stow away her valuables and nurse her bruises in peace. She, Ellie and Jack had packed up their things and were heading out into the hall when they heard a voice behind them.

"Hey, Lisa! You're Lisa, right?"

Lisa turned in surprise. She was being addressed by one of the Bascaulet twins. They were wearing matching branded tracksuits in white and emerald-green, and designer sneakers which looked fresh out of the box. Though it was almost impossible to tell the two dark-haired girls apart, she noticed that one of them had a tiny brown birthmark on the end of her nose, just above the septum. It seemed to be the only feature that marked her apart from her sister.

"Yes," she said. "You're - uh - Suzanne, is that right?"

"Right," said the one with the birthmark, and she grinned. "Yeah, we noticed you were a long time getting back here after your little mishap in the girls' bathroom. And we know you didn't just fall over. You don't get scratch-marks like those just from falling over."

"So what happened?" said Valerie. "You get in a fight or something?"

"Of course you did," Suzanne interrupted, before Lisa could answer. "Look at you. Look at how the girls looked when they came in. They were mad all right."

"We heard why, too," Valerie cut straight back in, to her sister's apparent annoyance. "Hazel told us how you lashed out and started it when they caught you powdering your nose."

Suzanne smirked.

"Well that's one way of putting it. So where'd you get the stuff? Hard to find up here."

It took Lisa a couple of seconds to work out what they were getting at.

"I - what? You think I…. no! No, I'd never do something like that! I don't know what - "

"Oh, don't play the fool with us, Lisa," said Suzanne bluntly. "You know all right. Come on, we want to know where you got it. We know you didn't get it from us."

"Yeah, we would have remembered," Valerie chirped. "We don't forget faces."

"Well, you can forget mine!" said Lisa resentfully. "I don't care what Hazel told you, it isn't true. I don't do things like that. Whatever you're selling, I'm not interested and I never will be."

"You sure?"

"The only crack she's worried about is the one in the back of her skull," Ellie interjected suddenly. "She almost smashed her head open, all right? She's had enough potential brain damage without you trying to peddle even more to her! Now clear off and leave her alone!"

The twins shared a knowing smirk, and walked off.

"If you change your mind, you know where to find us," Suzanne called back, over her shoulder. "Whatever you like, we can get it cheap…"

A few steps into the crowd and they were two figures amongst many, and then they disappeared completely.

Lisa stared after them, bewildered and angry.

"So Hazel's spreading rumours about me now? That I was… what, doing drugs or something? My God, how can she make up things like that about people? That's - that's disgusting!"

"That certainly sounds like her style," said Ellie. "It wouldn't be the first time she's spread around lies about people she doesn't like. She's a horrible little toerag."

Lisa's next thought made her heart sink.

"Oh, no," she said. "You don't think she's been going around saying that to _everybody_, do you? Even teachers? What if she - "

"No, I don't think so. Making up nasty stories about people is one thing, but false allegations to teachers would be a drastic step, even for her. Even she doesn't want to get expelled from this hellhole. I wouldn't worry about that."

Lisa breathed out.

"You know what, I've had enough of today," she said. "I can't wait till I get out of this place. My head hurts."

"I'm not surprised," said Ellie. "Sorry to say it, but your face looks terrible. Those bruises are coming up bright purple. Do you want to come back to my house? I can get my mum to take a look at you if you want."

"I think I'll be all right."

"She won't mind, you know. She used to work in a pharmacy. She knows First Aid and everything."

"Nah, I can take care of her," said Jack, waving a hand. "Dunt worry, Ellie. I used to get in fights an' stuff sometimes. Had to patch myself up a coupla times when Auntie be out of the house and no could do it for me. I know what to do."

Ellie looked doubtful.

"If you're sure…?"

"It's all right, really," said Lisa. "Thanks for the offer, but right now I just want to go home. I don't really feel up to meeting new people. Especially not when I look like this."

"Fair enough," said Ellie reasonably. "We're only a few streets away if you need us, though. Are you on the phone?"

"Yeah, sure, we got a phone," said Jack.

Ellie took out her notepad, scribbled something and tore out the leaf.

"That's my number," she told Lisa, passing the scrap of paper to her. "If you change your mind, give me a ring. And if you're bored on the weekend, I'll be free for a bit. I've got band practice tomorrow night but Saturday day is fine. Or come over Sunday if you want."

"Thanks, Ellie."

"Not a problem. Have a nice weekend, you two."

She waved goodbye, stepped into the stream of students leaving the building, and was gone. Jack and Lisa went out through the front door, the yard and the school gates, and glimpsed her walking down the street, in the opposite direction. They turned right at the school gates and headed for home.

They walked quietly, side by side, for a minute or two before Jack spoke.

"How you holdin' up, Lise?"

"Not so good," Lisa admitted. "My ribs hurt all over. I don't remember them smacking me in the chest quite that much when I was awake. I think they must have kicked me around while I was passed out too."

Jack pulled a face.

"Those are some real nasty _chicas_ you got mixed up with, Lise. Worse than Julie an' those girls at Raccoon High. At least they just make fun of other girls an' dint beat 'em senseless like they do here. They dint tell people they be on drugs an' stuff either. That ain't right."

Lisa slipped her charm bracelet back onto her arm when he wasn't looking. He glanced just in time to see her lower her wrist.

"Hey, could be worse though. Least they dint take you bracelet off you, right?"

Lisa forced a smile.

"Yeah…"

"You ring be okay too?"

"Oh," she said guiltily. "Jack… the chain broke when I was trying to fight off Karen and the other girls. I'm really sorry. I only realised when I got it - uh, when I got up and found it on the floor. I didn't want to tell you before. I was worried you'd be mad with me."

Jack looked crestfallen.

"Oh," he said. "Can I see?"

Lisa pulled it out of her pocket and passed it to him.

"I'm really, really sorry," she blurted out, apologies spilling over each other in her haste to soften the blow. "I didn't mean for it to get broken. Is it bad? Do you think we can fix it?"

She waited anxiously for his response as he looked it over, but he didn't seem upset. If anything, he seemed relieved by what he saw.

"Ah, that ain't much. One of the little links in the chain open up next to the clasp, 's all. Dunt worry 'bout it. Least you dint lose it or nothin'. I can fix it up for you when we get home."

"I don't think I should wear it to school again. I know how important it is to you and I don't want to risk losing it. Perhaps I should keep it at home where it'll be safe. Next time I might not be so lucky."

Jack seemed to think this was a good idea. He returned the ring to Lisa and she closed her hand around it, wrapping the loose lengths of chain around her fingers.

"C'mon," he said, putting his arm around her shoulders. "We should get you home."

Lisa didn't argue with this. She let him walk her home, with his arm still draped around her shoulders, grateful for his warmth and support.

"Aw, look," said Jack, pointing, as they passed a street sign. "Somebody lost their cat."

There was a home-made poster tied to the metal pole, with a photograph of a tabby cat and the handwritten words: _"Have you seen our Tiger? He's two years old and has been missing since Tuesday. If found, please call us! Reward offered!" _Below the message was a phone number in large, red letters.

"Poor kitty," said Lisa sadly. "I hope they find it."

"I bet they will. 'Less somethin' ate it. They have bears up here? Coyotes? That kind of stuff?"

"I'm not sure. My parents and I used to go hiking in the foothills sometimes, back when I was a kid, but we never went high up into the mountains. Dad liked the forest but Mom was scared of running into bears and things, so we didn't go far past the treeline."

"Marshall tell me in Art class that he could hear some weird noises last night. He heard a cat yowling too. His house ain't far from the edge of town."

Lisa turned to look at him in surprise. It sounded a little like what Connor had been talking about in Art. So other people had been hearing noises too?

"Connor told me he'd heard noises as well," she said. "He wasn't sure what it was, but he thought it might have been somebody out in the woods. He said he heard clinking sounds."

"What, you mean like metal? Or glass?"

"I guess so. He didn't really know."

Jack looked serious.

"Lise," he said. "You dunt think there be - like, you know how STARS say there be stuff in the forest when they go to investigate? They say they blow that place up, but…"

Lisa knew straight away what he was thinking.

"You think there might be things still out there in the woods? Like if they'd missed a few of the monsters? Or maybe something that escaped the explosion?"

A shiver seemed to pass through Jack's body.

"Yeah," he said. "Dunt like to think it, but what if they dint kill everythin', Lise? What if there be somethin' they miss an' it still be out there?"

They turned and looked up, uneasily, at the bank of trees visible behind the roofs of the nearby houses, where the forest-covered mountains started to rise above the town. It was dark and silent, save for the soft rustling of leaves and branches in the breeze.

"There ain't been more attacks since they destroy the city, though," Jack said out loud. "Nobody been talkin' 'bout people goin' missin'. I guess everythin' must be dead now, or we woulda heard. Unless… those noises… you really think there be somethin' left out there? Some kind of monster?"

There was a flicker of fear in his eyes; he'd sounded as though he was trying to convince himself, and her, that there was no danger beyond the town's boundaries, but doubt was already seeping into his words. Now he seemed to be looking at her for reassurance.

"I don't know, but I don't intend to find out," she said. "I'm not going into those woods. I'm staying put right here in town until the others come back for us, and so should you."

Jack almost grinned with relief.

"Dunt have to tell me twice. I ain't goin' out there. I gonna stay well away from those trees, same as you. There could be _anythin' _still out there. Yeah. We oughta stay put here in town where we know it be safe."

Lisa rubbed her bruised side.

"Kind of safe," she said. "But yes, I agree. It's not like we have anywhere else to go, anyway. The roads up here are bad and I heard the other mountain towns are quite a drive away from here. I wouldn't recommend going on foot even in summer with good weather. Here, now, when it's cold and dark… definitely not. And the snow will be back soon."

"How soon?"

"I'm not sure. I don't think it'll be long. I can feel the cold in the air already."

They turned onto Pinewood Avenue and headed up the path towards their house.

Mrs Winfield was kneeling on the front lawn, uprooting some plants from the border. She was wearing an old housecoat over her dress and her gloved hands were coated in dirt. She smiled at them as they passed.

"Hello, you two," she said. "Don't mind me, I'm just clearing away these old dead plants. The frost killed them a couple of weeks back but my arthritis hasn't been so good lately, so I haven't had the chance to get outside. How are you both? Good day at school today?"

"Just fine, ma'am," said Jack politely. "Thank you. How 'bout you?"

The old woman was about to respond when she caught sight of Lisa's face. The wrinkles on her friendly face creased into a frown.

"And what happened to you, miss? You don't look fine to me…"

Lisa's hand shot up to her bruised cheek.

"Oh… I had some trouble with another girl at school. She and her friends ganged up on me over an argument. I'm okay, honestly. It looks a lot worse than it is."

Mrs Winfield seemed unconvinced.

"You're sure?"

"Really, ma'am, I'm fine. One of our friends already offered to help but I told her it was okay. I've got Jack here to look after me."

"Yeah," said Jack, shuffling his feet. "I gonna take care of her bruises an' stuff, make sure she ain't hurt bad. I dint think girls could do this to somebody. Least of all someone nice like Lise. Dunt worry, ma'am, I look after her, I promise."

The old lady was still giving him a stern look.

"Make sure that you do," she said at last. "Young men like you need to look after girls and keep them safe. If you're lucky enough to have a nice young lady to call your own, then it's your responsibility to protect her and treat her right. I don't want to see her coming home hurt again, young man, is that clear?"

Jack lowered his eyes, but nodded.

"Yes, ma'am. Absolutely clear."

"Well, good. You get her inside and see to it that you make her comfortable. Make sure you get some ice on her face to help with the swelling. Come and see me if there's anything you need!"

"We will, ma'am. Thank you for the advice."

They hurried inside, with Mrs Winfield still staring after them. Jack closed the front door and leaned against it.

"Oh, man. You see the way she look at me back there? Dunt tell me she think that I -"

"No!" said Lisa quickly. "I don't think she meant it that way. I think she just didn't approve of you not being around to defend me. That's all."

"Lise, I dint even know where you _be_," said Jack. "I had no idea you be in trouble. An' you say it be the girls' bathroom, right? No like I could go in there anyway, guys ain't allowed in there. Ain't all that much I could do, in the circumstances. I mean, if I know at the time, I prob'ly would have bust in there anyway to go rescue you, but…"

"Don't worry about it, Jack. It's my fault I got hurt, not yours. I should have been more careful."

They went up the stairs.

"So, you gonna tell me what happen with Karen's locker?" said Jack. "I _know _you an' Ellie had somethin' to do with it."

"How did you know it was us?"

"The way you two keep lookin' at each other the whole time, tryin' to keep from laughin'."

"Do you think she noticed?" said Lisa. "We were trying so hard to keep our faces straight. Then again, I suppose she'll find out sooner or later. There wasn't really anyone else it could have been. The message Ellie decided to leave her wasn't exactly subtle. Not when that little girl decided to help out with the translation, anyway."

"Fly all ye thieves," said Jack. "So what'd she steal from you?"

Lisa stopped, embarrassed. She'd forgotten about that part. This was going to be awkward.

"My bracelet," she admitted. "She threw it into her locker after we got out of class and we had to break in to get it back. I was just going to take it and go, but Ellie wanted to teach her a lesson, so… I didn't exactly stop her. She was telling the truth to Karen, though. I didn't do anything to her locker. Ellie was the one who picked the lock and drew all over that awful pin-up of hers."

Jack groaned.

"I just know wearin' that bracelet would be trouble. Too nice to wear to school, Lise. An' you mama an' dad give you that. You should keep it here, safe. You be real lucky to get it back."

"I know, I know, it was stupid," said Lisa, flushing with shame. "I should have listened to you. But I wanted to do what you always do with your mom's ring. I wanted to keep my parents close to me. I miss them, Jack…"

She looked so forlorn that he stopped halfway up the stairs to hug her.

"I know you do, _querida_. Sorry. I wish I could bring 'em back for you."

"Me too."

They resumed their progress up the flight of stairs to their apartment.

"So why Latin?"

Jack's laughter filled the stairwell as Lisa explained.

"Clever," he said, when she finished. "Ain't subtle, but I like it. You two really think this through, dint you?"

"Not really. I was so upset at the time, all I wanted to do was beat the hell out of her until she gave my bracelet back. It was Ellie who came up with the plans. When we opened up the locker and saw that poster, she figured right away it would be the best way to get back at Karen. That girl's got revenge down to an exact science."

They reached the top step and went to the front door.

"You dint help her, though?"

"No, but I wish I had now. I would have given that poster boy of hers sideburns and a dress. Couldn't have been any worse than those nasty leopard-print Speedos."

"Think it be an improvement," said Jack.

"Yeah!"

Their laughter rang out in the hallway behind them as they closed the door of their apartment. When the echoes died away, silence returned. And yet the silence wasn't complete.

There was a whisper of sound from the darkened landing above theirs, then a fluttering of wings in the shadows…


End file.
